LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

MRS.    ERIC   SCHMIDT 


U/d      ^^ 


Patroon  Van  Volkenberg 


:si 


•HE  WHEELED  ROUND  IN 
AMAZEMENT  AND  DROPPED 
THE  GIRL'S  HAND."— p.  23 


Patroon  Van 
Volkenberg 

A  Tale  gf  Old  Manhattan  in  the  Year 
Sixteen  Hundred  CEi  Ninety -nine. 


BY 

HENRY  THEW  STEPHENSON 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 
C.  M.  REYLEA 


Fifth  Edition 


GROSSET    &   DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS  :  :  NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1900 

The  Bowen-Merrill  Company 

All  Rights  Reserved 


In  memory  of  my  aunt,  Mary  T.  W. 
CuRWEN,  whose  kindness  and  care  for 
many  years  has  been  greater  than  my  ut- 
most gratitude  and  affection  can  express 


Contents 


I 

The  Flight  from  Paris  I 

II 

The  Maid  at  the  Mariner's  Rest  13 

III 

The  Royal  Lion  26 

IV 

The  Buccaneer's  Gift  41- 

V 

The  Jacobite  Coffee-House  54 

VI 

An  Interview  with  the  Earl  69 

VII 
Pierre's  Secret  80 

VIII 

Lady  Marmaduke  93 


CONTENTS 

IX 

The  Red  Band  at  Drill  I02 

X 

My  First  Commission  in 

XI 

The  Escape  from  the  Rattle- Watch  126 

XII 

Van  Volkenberg's  Window  135 

XIII 

Van  Volkenberg  in  Disgrace  144 

XIV 
Plotting  without  the  Earl  154 

XV 

The  Silver  Buttons  171 

XVI 

Fire  and  Sleete  and  Candle  Light  181 

XVII 

The  Events  of  Next  Day  196 

XVIII 
Another  Secret  Burial  214 


CONTENTS 

XIX 
I  Meet  the  Patroon  Again  233 

XX 
The  Skeleton  in  the  Patroon 's  Closet  251 

XXI 

Meg's  Pleading  265 

XXII 

A  Fruitless  Resolution  277 

XXIII 

Van  Volkenberg  and  the  Earl  291 

XXIV 

Captain  William  Kidd  305 

XXV 

The  Effect  of  Kidd's  Visit  3  1 5 

XXVI 

The  Great  Secret  331 

XXVII 

The  Last  of  the  Patroon  340 

XXVIII 
Conclusion  357 


PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 


CHAPTER    I 
THE  FLIGHT  FROM  PARIS 

The  long-boat  of  Captain  Tew  had  set  me  ashore 
on  the  southwest  end  of  Long  Island  in  a  cove  near 
the  village  of  Gravesoon,  which  is  just  across  the 
end  of  the  island  from  New  York.  In  those  days 
the  pirates  were  in  bad  repute  with  the  govern- 
ment and  Captain  Tew  durst  not  land  me  nearer 
the  town  for  fear  of  the  king's  officers;  so  I  had  to 
make  the  rest  of  my  way  alone.  I  was  not  cast 
down,  however,  for  I  had  always  a  hopeful  heart, 
and,  in  addition  to  this  fact,  I  was  sick  and  tired  of 
the  bad-smelling  ship  and  of  its  lawless  crew  of 
buccaneers.  Yet  I  ought  not  to  cry  out  against 
their  captain.  He  and  I  possessed  a  strong  bond 
of  friendship.  I  had  done  him  one  good  turn  and 
he  had  done  me  another,  though,  at  that  moment, 
neither  of  us  foresaw  what  the  latter  would  amount 
to  in  the  end. 

I  turned  on  my  heel  to  look  at  the  town  in  which 
I  intended  to  lodge  for  the  night.  It  was  now  late 
and  fully  dark,  and  one  or  two  dim  lights  were  all 
that  I  could  see  in  Gravesoon  by  way  of  welcome. 
At  that  moment  a  feeling  of  loneliness  took  such 

1 


2  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

strong  hold  of  me  that  I  cast  my  eyes  once  more 
upon  the  open  sea  for  the  meagre  companionship 
of  the  pirate  crew  that  was  gHding  away  into  the 
dark.  But  the  ship  was  already  so  far  from  shore 
that  the  sounds  that  ahvays  accompany  getting 
under  way  could  no  longer  reach  me,  though  I 
strained  hard  to  hear  them.  In  ten  minutes  even 
the  vague  outline  of  the  vessel  against  the  sky  had 
completely  blended  with  the  darkness.  Then  I  rea- 
lized for  the  first  time  that  I  was  all  alone  in  a 
strange  land.  My  only  companions  were  the  heavy 
sorrow  in  my  heart  and  a  strong  hope  that  this 
sorrow  would  soon  be  turned  to  joy  by  virtue  of 
the  errand  that  was  now  bringing  me  to  New 
York. 

I  had  nearly  reached  the  middle  time  of  life  and 
knew  by  hard  experience  that  when  the  future 
looks  the  darkest  one  is  most  likely  to  be  near  the 
light.  This  thought  gave  me  fresh  comfort  and 
put  new  life  Into  my  step  as  I  set  out  briskly  along 
the  shore  of  the  cove.  The  wind  blew  strong  in 
my  face,  and  I  had  to  bend  over  and  lean  upon  it, 
as  it  were,  to  prevent  my  slipping  upon  the  rocks. 
Whatever  a  misstep  might  mean  to  me,  it  would 
certainly  bring  misfortune,  perhaps  death,  to  one 
whom  I  loved  better  than  myself  a  hundred  times. 
So  I  picked  my  way  carefully  over  the  rough 
places,  balancing  myself  upon  the  wind  and  setting 
my  feet  firmly  when  I  came  to  rocks  that  were  wet 
and  slippery.  By  dint  of  much  perseverance  I  made 


THE  FLIGHT  FROM  PARIS  3 

fair  progress  towards  the  lights  of  Gravesoon,  for  • 
all  it  was  so  dark  upon  the  shore.  As  I  drew  near 
the  town  I  spied  more  lights,  and  at  last  I  came 
to  the  lamp  hanging  over  the  doorway  that  be- 
tokened a  house  of  public  entertainment,  I  opened 
the  door  of  the  ordinary  and  went  in.  The  room 
was  quite  deserted  and  I  rapped  twice  upon  the 
table  before  the  host  appeared  in  answer  to  my 
summons. 

He  was  a  pleasant  looking  man  of  no  particular 
appearance.  He  served  me  quickly  with  something 
to  eat  and  drink,  and  then  sat  down  on  the  other 
side  of  the  table,  rippling  with  questions.  I  am 
not  given  to  talking  and  never  was;  yet,  because  I 
saw  here  an  opportunity  to  gain  information  that  I 
should  not  otherwise  possess  until  I  reached  New 
York,  I  did  not  turn  away  from  my  host's  cross- 
examination  as  my  temper  at  first  prompted  me  to 
do. 

He  had  seen  the  pirate  ship  in  the  ofiftng  that 
afternoon  and  would  like  to  know  its  name,  guess- 
ing shrewdly  how  I  had  come  ashore;  but  I  put 
him  off  with  an  indirect  reply  and  he  was  fain  to 
be  content  w^th  my  own  name,  a  poor  substitute, 
though  he  made  the  most  of  it. 

"Le  Bourse,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  'That 
sounds  like  a  French  name.  Are  you  going  to 
friends  in  Yorke?" 

"I  am  a  stranger  there,  but  I  am  seeking  a  per- 
son who  may  help  me  to  a  sight  of  friends." 


4  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"Van  Volkenberg :  one  of  the  patroons  I  think." 

"Ah,  yes,  Patroon  Kilian;  the  armed  patroon  is 
what  the  burghers  call  him.     We  know  him  well." 

"Is  he  in  New  York  now?" 

"Yes,  indeed.  He  never  leaves  the  island.  Kilian 
Van  Volkenberg  is  too  great  a  man  to  let  himself 
go  far  from  port.  His  ships  need  his  attention 
every  day.  Now,  when  I  saw  yon  ship  in  the  offing, 
I  said  to  myself,  "Tis  a  ship  of  the  patroon's.'  But 
you  seem  to  say  not." 

I  had  said  nothing  of  the  kind;  but  I  let  the  mat- 
ter pass  without  correction,  knowing  that  it  was 
only  another  effort  on  his  part  to  learn  the  mystery 
of  my  arrival. 

"How  can  I  get  to  New  York  from  here?"  I 
asked  after  a  short  pause. 

"There  is  a  good  road  direct,  not  more  than 
eight  or  ten  miles,  with  a  ferry  at  the  end  of  it. 
You  will  see  a  tree  with  a  shell  tied  up  to  blow  for 
the  ferryman — he  is  likely  to  be  on  the  Yorke  side 
of  the  river.    Can  you  blow  a  shell?" 

I  could  not,  never  having  seen  this  custom  be- 
fore, whereupon  the  obliging  host  bustled  out  to 
find  one.  He  returned  shortly  with  a  huge  sea  shell 
in  his  hands,  by  means  of  which  he  instructed  me 
in  the  manner  of  using  it  as  a  horn.  The  trick  was 
not  difficult  to  learn,  not  so  hard  by  half  as  whist- 
ling with  your  fingers  in  your  mouth,  which  feat 
I  never  did  learn  to  do  well.    But  after  five  minutes 


THE  FLIGHT  FROM  PARIS  S 

practice  with  the  shell  I  could  blow  as  mournful  a 
tone  as  you  ever  heard  on  the  moors  of  a  spooky; 
night. 

My  music  lesson  over,  I  went  to  my  room.  As 
soon  as  I  was  alone  I  took  out  the  pocket  Bible 
that  had  been  the  companion  of  all  my  wanderings. 
I  opened  it  at  the  book  of  Ruth;  this  book  was  my 
favorite  reading,  for  my  sister's  name  was  Ruth. 
My  separation  from  her  long  years  before  this,  my 
great  search  and  heavy  disappointment  had  at  last 
led  me  to  this  point  in  my  wanderings.  But  there 
was  still  a  strong  hope  in  my  heart;  and  hope  will 
keep  the  pulse  bounding  even  when  the  shadows 
are  dark. 

But  before  I  continue  my  story,  let  me  go  back 
and  relate  the  strange  events  which  resulted  in 
my  being  set  on  shore  in  the  dead  of  night  like  a 
criminal,  from  one  of  the  ships  which  was  under  the 
displeasure  of  his  royal  majesty  the  king. 

When  I  was  but  a  lad  of  three  and  twenty  my 
parents  both  died  and  I  was  left  the  only  pro- 
tector of  little  Ruth,  my  sister,  who  was  then  a 
child,  scarce  fifteen  years  of  age.  She  was  a  bright- 
faced,  cheery  sister,  who  did  as  much  as  a  full- 
grown  woman  could  have  done  to  make  our  mod- 
est home  in  Paris  comfortable  and  happy.  I  prized 
her  more  than  life  and  would  not  let  her  go  out 
of  my  sight.  In  this  respect  the  more  caution  was 
needed  because  the  long    Huguenot    peace    was 


6  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

drawing  to  a  close  and  people  of  our  faitH  were 
subject  to  all  manner  of  persecution. 

Our  heaviest  troubles  began,  of  course,  in  the 
year  1685,  when  King  Louis  revoked  the  Edict  of 
Nantes;  but  for  years  before  that  the  Huguenots 
were  afflicted  with  innumerable  unjust  restrictions. 
There  was  one  of  the  king's  decrees  that  caused 
more  confusion  than  all  the  others  put  together. 
This  was  the  law  permitting  children  at  the  age 
of  seven  to  renounce  the  faith  in  which  they  had 
been  bred,  and  to  enter  the  Roman  church.  Every 
kind  of  inducement  was  held  out  to  persuade  them 
to  acknowledge  belief  in  the  Catholic  religion. 
Once  confessed,  they  were  considered  to  be  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  priesthood.  When  dolls, 
fairy  stories,  idle  promises  of  childish  pleasures, 
failed  to  make  a  mere  infant  nod  to  some  statement 
mumbled  by  the  priest — when  all  such  ways  of 
seducing  little  children  failed,  they  were  often 
shamelessly  kidnapped  and  carried  away  to  a  con- 
vent by  force.  It  was  mainly  against  this  latter 
danger  that  I  had  to  protect  Ruth,  for  she  clung 
so  tenaciously  to  me  and  to  our  Protestant  faith 
that  I  had  no  fear  of  their  cajoling  her  by  any  fair 
and  open  means. 

One  day  Ruth  and  I  were  walking  in  the  fields 
near  the  edge  of  Paris.  We  were  on  our  way  home 
about  twilight,  and  Ruthie,  as  I  called  her  then, 
danced  ahead  of  me  like  a  golden-haired  butterfly. 
She  always  danced — bless  her  heart! — and  carried 


THE  FLIGHT  FROM  PARIS  7 

sunlight  wherever  she  went.  Suddenly,  while  she 
was  passing  the  dark  gateway  of  a  court-yard,  a 
priest  in  a  black  mantle  stepped  out  from  the 
covered  way  and  caught  my  sister  by  the  arm, 

"Come  in  here,"  he  cried  insinuatingly,  at  the 
same  time  drawing  her  swiftly  towards  the  door- 
way. 

Ruth  resisted,  and  then  the  priest  clapped  a  big 
hand  over  her  mouth  so  she  could  not  scream. 

Shame  on  him !  And  she  a  mere  child !  But  he 
was  reckoning  without  me  when  he  made  that  false 
move.  I  was  at  her  side  even  before  he  noticed 
me.  He  called  for  help  and  soon  brought  another 
priest  to  his  assistance.  Even  so,  it  was  only  two  to 
one,  which  was  hardly  fair  considering  my  size  and 
the  fact  that  I  had  been  bred  to  arms.  It  was  a 
dreadful  thing  for  me  to  do,  but,  in  a  trice,  and 
without  even  stopping  to  draw  my  sword,  I  had 
stretched  one  of  them  unconscious  upon  the 
ground  and  sent  the  other  crying  for  help,  with 
his  blood  dripping  all  the  way. 

For  the  moment,  the  rashness  of  my  deed  quite 
overcame  me.  I  had  struck  a  priest.  In  those  days 
the  penalty  for  such  an  offence  could  be  none  other 
than  death;  and  Ruth  would  be  left  alone  to  worse 
than  death.  She  and  I  resolved  to  fly  from  the 
capital  and  to  escape  from  the  country  altogether 
if  we  could.  We  packed  what  little  of  value  we 
possessed,  and  in  twenty  minutes  had  left  our  lodg- 
ings behind  us.    It  was  our  haste  only — always  ex- 


8  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

cepting  the  grace  of  God — that  saved  us  from 
immediate  pursuit.  Even  so,  it  seems  a  miracle 
that  we  got  out  of  the  city  and  found  ourselves 
safe  upon  the  road  to  La  Rochelle. 

Ruth  bore  up  very  bravely  in  those  hard  times 
and  never  spoke  a  single  word  to  reproach  me  for 
my  hasty  act.  She  sang  pleasant  songs  to  me  on 
the  way  and  would  comfort  me  by  saying  that  she 
was  not  tired,  though  I  knew  she  must  be  weary 
enough  to  lie  right  down  in  the  road  and  give  up. 
On  the  third  day  after  leaving  Paris  we  fell  in  with 
a  party  of  Protestants  and  continued  our  journey 
with  them.  We  were  thankful  for  their  company 
at  the  time,  but  it  would  have  been  better  had  we 
not  met  them,  for  their  flight  was  known  to  the 
authorities  and  was  the  ultimate  cause  of  my  sep- 
aration from  little  Ruth. 

These  fugitives  had  already  made  arrangements 
with  a  ship  owner  at  La  Rochelle  to  transport  them 
to  England.  We  had  at  last  come  to  a  little  stream 
almost  within  sight  of  the  town  and  of  safety  when 
we  were  overtaken  by  four  of  the  troopers  of  the 
Paris  guard.  A  narrow  way  led  down  to  the  place 
where  we  should  cross  the  stream.  We  thought 
that  the  advantageous  position  of  this  path  would 
enable  two  of  us  to  keep  back  all  four  of  the 
guardsmen.  We  cast  lots  to  see  which  of  us  should 
defend  the  others  and  one  of  the  lots  fell  to  me. 
Ruth  was  much  grieved  at  heart  when  she  knew 
that  I  must  stay  behind  and  risk  capture  while  she 


THE  FLIGHT  FROM  PARIS  '    9 

and  the  others  went  forward;  but  she  said  bravely, 
"Do  your  duty,  Vincie  boy,  and  the  Lord  will  take 
care  of  us." 

The  guards  fortunately  had  no  guns  and  were 
armed  only  with  short  swords.  We  held  them  at 
bay  for  some  time;  then,  making  a  charge  together, 
they  killed  my  companion  and  I  was  left  alone  to 
bar  the  path,  with  a  deep  wound  in  my  shoulder 
which  prevented  my  using  my  cloak  as  a  guard. 
The  rest  of  our  party  of  fugitives  escaped,  but,  on 
the  arrival  of  some  more  soldiers,  I  was  disarmed 
and  taken  to  prison. 

For  some  reason,  I  never  discovered  what,  I  did 
not  suffer  the  penalty  I  expected.  Instead  of  being 
led  immediately  to  the  scaffold,  I  was  kept  close  in 
prison  among  others  of  my  faith  whose  only  crime 
was  an  attempt  to  avoid  the  oppressive  hand  with 
which  the  church  of  Rome  strove  to  drain  the  life- 
blood  of  the  Protestants. 

During  the  long  months  of  my  captivity,  I  pon- 
dered much  upon  little  Ruth.  Where  had  she  gone? 
I  thought  that  England  was  the  destination  of  the 
party  we  had  fallen  in  with.  Sometimes  I  pictured 
my  sister  in  America,  alone  in  that  far  off  land;  but 
a  little  thought  would  convince  me  that  she  was  not 
there.  Ruth  was  a  hopeful  girl.  She  would  never 
bring  herself  to  think — unless  she  heard  of  my 
actual  death — that  I  should  not  come  to  her  event- 
ually. In  that  case,  where  would  I  be  so  likely  to 
look  as  in  England?    No,  Ruth  would  not  go  to 


10-         PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

the  colonies.  As  I  thought  about  her  whereabouts 
I  became  more  and  more  sure,  and  at  last  I  was 
certain,  in  my  own  mind  at  least,  that  she  had  taken 
refuge  in  England, 

At  the  end  of  a  year  a  happy  accident  opened 
the  way  to  my  escape.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
burden  that  fell  from  my  shoulders,  the  long  breath 
of  unutterable,  thankful  relief  that  I  drew  upon  the 
day  I  crossed  the  French  frontier  into  Holland. 
I  left  my  native  land  with  my  mind  firmly  resolved 
upon  two  things:  the  first  was  to  find  Ruth;  the 
second  was  to  bring  confusion  to  the  church  of 
Rome,  the  slayers  of  God's  people,  the  tormentors 
of  me  and  mine.  Wherever  I  should  meet  a  Catho- 
lic,— sleeping  or  waking,  in  sickness  or  in  health, — 
he  was  my  enemy. 

I  made  my  way  at  once  for  England,  where  I 
inquired  diligently  for  my  sister  in  all  the  great 
cities.  A  year  of  this  searching  brought  me  no 
tidings  and  exhausted  my  slender  means  of  sup- 
port. Then  I  fell  back  upon  military  service  for  a 
livelihood.  My  great  strength  and  my  skill  of 
fence  soon  found  me  employment.  I  could  even 
choose  my  master  in  a  way,  and  managed  to  take 
service  with  those  who  would  lead  me  into  distant 
parts.  You  may  be  sure  that  during  all  my  foreign 
campaigns  I  never  lost  sight  of  the  darling  desire 
of  my  heart.  But  as  time  wore  on  and  I  did  not 
find  her,  I  became  less  and  less  positive  that  Ruth 
was  still  alive. 


THE  FLIGHT  FROM  PARIS  11 

In  the  years  that  followed  I  walked  in  many 
strange  cities;  in  all  of  them  I  searched  the  streets 
hungrily  for  Ruth.  I  glanced  up  into  windows;  I 
peered  down  into  cellar  ways;  but  I  never  saw  a 
familiar  face.  Once  I  penetrated  in  disguise  to  La 
Rochelle  itself.  Even  there  I  could  hear  nothing  of 
Ruth  or  of  the  ship-master  who  had  taken  her  to 
England.  I  began  to  doubt  whether  she  had  es- 
caped at  all.  At  such  moments  my  fierce  resent- 
ment against  our  oppressors  grew  bitter  as  gall. 
More  than  once  in  those  stern,  tumultuous  times, 
I  fought  under  the  banners  of  the  Protestant  chiefs 
of  Europe,  and  my  blade  was  no  sluggard. 

At  last  a  new  fear  began  to  haunt  me  day  and 
night.  What  if  I  should  meet  Ruth  and  not  recog- 
nize her !  She  was  fifteen  years  old  when  I  lost  her. 
How  a  girl  changes  between  fifteen  and  twenty ! 
I  must  look  now,  not  for  the  slim  childish  figure  I 
remembered,  but  for  the  full  roundness  of  a  woman. 
How  often  I  had — and  as  I  grew  older  it  occurred 
ever  the  more  often — how  often  I  had  looked  into 
faces  that  I  felt  sure  I  had  seen  somewhere  before. 
Then,  when  it  was  too  late  to  follow,  I  would  be 
startled  with  the  idea  that  perhaps  the  person  I  had 
just  seen  was  Ruth.  Such  moments  wrung  my 
heart. 

At  last,  after  eight  or  nine  years  of  fruitless  hunt- 
ing, I  found  myself  again  in  England.  I  had  long 
since  abandoned  all  hope  of  finding  Ruth.  I  be- 
came the  trusted  servant  of  an  English  lord.       I 


12  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

was  now  three  and  thirty  years  of  age,  though 
people  who  judged  from  my  appearance  thought  I 
was  older.  King  William  was  on  the  throne  and 
my  master  stood  well  in  the  sovereign's  graces. 
Everything,  so  far  as  worldly  prospects  went,  gave 
promise  of  a  happy  life.  Then  of  a  sudden  my 
master  fell  under  the  displeasure  of  the  govern- 
ment. With  the  quickness  of  a  summer  storm, 
misfortune  came  upon  him.  Two  months  after  the 
first  thunder-clap  he  was  a  condemned  prisoner  in 
the  Tower,  and  I  once  more  masterless  and  adrift. 
This  calamity  occurred  in  the  year  1698,  a 
twelvemonth  before  my  arrival  in  New  York.  I 
had  saved  some  money  and,  strange  to  say,  there 
came  to  me  suddenly  and  without  reason  a  new 
conviction  that  I  should  yet  find  Ruth.  But  where? 
There  was  only  one  place  in  the  world  where  she 
might  be  and  in  which  I  had  not  sought  for  her: 
America.  My  resolution  was  immediately  taken  to 
set  out  over  sea  and  resume  the  hunt  that  I  had  lat- 
terly neglected.  With  this  intent  I  journeyed  to 
Bristol,  where  I  intended  to  take  ship  at  once. 


CHAPTER   II 
THE  MAID  AT  THE  MARINER'S  REST 

Bristol  was  then  the  second  seaport  of  the  king- 
dom; only  London  surpassed  it  in  the  number  of 
ships  sailing  from  its  docks  and  in  the  amount  of 
hurly-burly,  shuffling  traffic  in  its  streets.  I  ar- 
rived in  the  city  near  sundown  of  an  evening.  As 
soon  as  I  had  had  a  bite  to  eat  I  set  out  for  the 
water  front.  The  Mariner's  Rest  was  the  principal 
tavern,  and  thither  I  went  to  begin  my  inquiry  for 
a  passage  to  New  York. 

A  maid  served  behind  the  bar  and  soon  brought 
me  a  mug  of  ale.  I  could  not  help  but  notice  her 
frail  figure  and  sorrowful  eyes;  she  looked  some 
two  or  three  and  twenty  years  of  age,  and  had  evi- 
dently seen  much  trouble  in  her  short  life.  Her 
refined  face  was  wonderfully  out  of  keeping  with 
her  coarse  surroundings.  Sometimes,  when  she 
had  been  rudely  spoken  to  by  a  tipsy  sailor,  she 
would  retreat  to  the  back  of  the  room  and  rest  her 
head  in  her  hands  as  if  from  weariness.  Though 
I  pitied  her  in  my  heart,  I  soon  fell  to  musing  upon 
other  things.  My  mind  was  always  on  the  alert 
now  about  New  York.  I  constantly  pictured  my- 
self wandering  along  its  streets,  casting  searching 
glances  to  this  side  and  that,  as  I  had  so  often  wan- 

13 


U  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

dered  here  in  England  when  I  still  believed  that 
Ruth  was  somewhere  near  at  hand, 

I  was  so  wrapped  up  in  my  fancy-hope  that  I  did 
not  notice  how  the  room  was  filling  nor  how  the 
noise  of  mingled  oaths  and  ribald  laughter  of  the 
common  herd  had  risen  to  a  din.  I  did  look  up  soon, 
however,  in  time  to  notice  the  entrance  of  a  sea- 
man whose  appearance  was  exceedingly  unlike  the 
rest.  He  wore  rich  clothes,  and  a  jeweled  sword 
by  his  side;  he  was  tall,  kindly  and  benevolent  look- 
ing. This  man — I  took  him  for  a  prosperous  mer- 
chant who  commanded  his  own  ship — made  his 
way  laboriously  through  the  crowd  of  tables,  nod- 
ding now  and  then  to  someone  he  knew.  When 
he  reached  the  farther  side  of  the  room  he  sat  down 
a  few  chairs  away  from  me.  There  was  a  patroniz- 
ing look  of  contempt  on  his  face  and  he  turned 
his  back  squarely  upon  the  company.  The  girl,  per- 
haps, had  been  the  first  to  notice  him,  and  her  face 
brightened  at  his  appearance. 

"Will  you  take  me?"  she  asked,  eagerly,  as  if 
her  life  depended  on  the  answer,  as  she  set  his  glass 
before  him. 

"This  is  no  life  for  the  like  of  you  to  lead,"  re- 
plied the  seaman.  "Yes,  I'll  take  you  and  I'll  do 
the  best  I  can  to  find  a  home  fit  for  you  and  your 
pretty  face  to  live  in." 

At  that  moment  a  cry  of  "Wench,  wench,  I  want 
some  rum,"  took  the  girl  back  to  her  uncongenial 


THE  MAID  AT  MARINER'S  REST       15 

task  behind  the  bar.  As  soon  as  she  was  gone  I 
moved  my  chair  nearer  to  the  new  comer. 

"Will  you  pardon  me,  sir?"  I  began.  "I  have 
arrived  from  the  country  only  to-day  and  am  a 
stranger  here.  Can  you  set  me  on  the  track  of  a 
ship  for  America?" 

"That  I  can  very  quick.  I  am  Captain  James 
Donaldson  of  the  Royal  Lion.  She  sails  for  New 
York  the  day  after  to-morrow.  I  can  let  you  have 
a  first-rate  cabin  and  good  rations  to  boot  if  you 
don't  eat  too  much.  You  have  no  idea  what  a  swift 
and  steady  craft  she  is." 

"Good,"  I  exclaimed  joyfully.  "You  may  count 
upon  me  as  a  passenger." 

"Tut,  tut,  you  are  as  hasty  as  the  girl  there. 
You  have  not  seen  the  cabin  yet,  nor  do  you  know 
my  price." 

"I  dare  say  we  can  arrange  that  to  our  satisfac- 
tion." 

"One  can  never  tell,"  he  said,  with  a  shrug  of 
his  shoulders.  "Folk  are  so  particular  in  these 
days;  but  come  to  me  in  the  morning  and  I  will 
show  you  over.  I  know  you  will  like  her.  I  must 
be  going  now.  I  only  stopped  in  to  speak  a  word 
with  yon  lass.  The  pretty  little  wench  is  going 
with  me  on  the  voyage." 

He  left  the  tavern  immediately,  and  I  remained 
for  some  time  longer  watching  the  girl  come  and 
go  about  the  room  with  her  easy  grace  and  soft 
manner.  Suddenly  her  attractive  face  filled  me  with 


16  PAT  ROOM  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

a  sort  of  half  fear.  A  fortune  teller  had  once  fore- 
told that  I  should  meet  my  wife  in  some  such  place 
as  this.  What  if  this  girl  were — !  Bah!  I  should 
not  let  such  a  thing  as  that  get  between  me  and 
my  hunt  for  Ruth.  You  cannot  appreciate  the  force 
"with  which  this  recollection  took  hold  of  me  unless 
you  remember  the  new  conviction,  a  sort  of  pre- 
sentiment that  I  should  at  last  find  Ruth.  I  always 
profess  great  disregard  for  superstition,  but  in  my 
heart  of  hearts  I  am  more  or  less  afifected  by  it. 
For  this  reason  I  got  up  hastily  to  go  out,  meaning 
to  escape  from  the  attractive  presence  of  the  pa- 
thetic looking  maiden.  As  I  stopped  at  the  bar  to 
settle  my  score  I  was  again  impressed  by  the  fine- 
ness of  the  girl's  features  and  could  not  suppress 
my  curiosity. 

"Yours  is  a  strange  face  to  see  here,"  I  said  while 
she  was  counting  out  my  change. 

"No  stranger  than  yours,"  she  answered.  "You 
and  Captain  Donaldson  are  the  only  gentlemen 
:who  have  been  here  tonight."  She  heaved  a  sigh. 
"I  wish  they  came  oftener." 

"You  are  going  across  the  water  with  him,  I 
believe." 

"Did  you  hear?"  she  asked  in  a  low,  earnest  tone. 
"Please  do  not  speak  of  it  aloud.  My  master  would 
treat  me  ill  if  he  knew  I  was  going  to  leave  him." 

"Never  fear,"  I  said,  turning  to  go.  "God  be 
with  you." 

"Pardon  me,"  she  said  as  if  to  call  me  back.  And 


THE  MAID  AT  MARINER'S  REST       171 

then,  "Oh,  pardon  me  again.  I  made  a  mistake.'* 
I  left  the  tavern  wondering  what  the  last  excla- 
mation meant,  for  she  had  dropped  her  eyes  when 
I  turned  round  to  look  at  her  again,  and  her  face 
assumed  a  look  of  disappointment.  Yet  I  was 
glad  to  be  free  of  the  place,  for  I  still  feared  that 
she  might  come  between  me  and  Ruth.  For  the 
moment  I  quite  forgot  that  we  should  be  together 
throughout  the  long  voyage. 

The  next  morning  I  left  my  lodgings  early  and 
threaded  the  badly  paved  streets  that  led  to  the 
harbor.  The  ships  were  headed  close  up  against 
the  shore  and  I  walked  beneath  their  high  bows 
that  projected  over  my  head  in  a  row  like  the  half 
of  an  arched  passage.  Before  long  I  came  to  the 
Royal  Lion.  Captain  Donaldson  was  busy  direct- 
ing the  movements  of  his  crew,  who  were  engaged 
with  crows  and  ropes  in  stowing  away  the  last  por- 
tions of  the  ship's  cargo.  When  he  saw  me,  he 
called  to  his  mate  to  take  his  place,  and  kindly  of- 
fered to  explore  the  ship  with  me  himself.  It  was 
a  staunch  brig,  for  the  most  part  fitted  out  with 
new  canvas  and  fresh  rigging.  What  struck  my  sol- 
dier eye  immediately,  and  what  gave  the  Royal 
Lion  its  best  claim  as  a  safe  conveyance  for  pas- 
sengers, was  its  preparation  for  miltary  defense.  A 
goodly  number  of  large  brass  cannons  were 
mounted  upon  the  deck,  and  Captain  Donaldson 
assured  me  that  his  magazine  was  well  stocked 
•with  small  arms  and  ammunition. 


18  P'ATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

An  ocean  voyage  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century  was  a  dangerous  undertaking.  The  sea 
swarmed  with  pirates.  Many  a  ship  returned  to 
port  battered  up  with  cannon  shots  and  its  decks 
reeky  with  blood  stains.  Other  ships  never  came 
back  at  all,  and  it  was  as  common  to  attribute  their 
loss  to  the  attacks  of  the  buccaneers  as  to  the  furi- 
ous tropic  storms. 

Captain  Donaldson  and  I  soon  came  to  terms 
about  my  passage.  As  I  left  the  ship  in  his  com- 
pany— for  he  would  go  part  way  along  the  dock  to 
point  out  less  favored  ships  and  make  comparisons 
to  their  disadvantage — as  we  walked  along  he  told 
me  what  he  knew  of  the  lass  at  the  Mariner's  Rest. 
She  had  come  of  better  folk,  he  told  me,  and  could 
no  longer  endure  her  present  occupation.  Her  de- 
termination was  to  go  to  the  colonies  and  take 
service  in  some  respectable  family  till  she  could 
save  enough  to  buy  her  a  little  home  in  one  of  the 
Huguenot  settlements. 

"But  that  is  not  what  she  will  really  do,"  said 
the  Captain.  "She  is  too  pretty  a  wench  for  that. 
Who  knows  but  that  you — tut,  tut,  man,  you  are 
not  married,  are  you?" 

He  had  recalled  my  fearfulness  of  the  night  be- 
fore and  there  was  particular  force  in  its  being  put 
into  words  by  a  perfect  stranger.  He  continued  to 
chaff  me  about  the  girl  till,  when  I  left  him,  I  half 
repented  the  bargain  I  had  made  to  sail  in  his  ship. 
Yet  for  all  that,  and  in  spite  of  myself,  when  night 


THE  MAID  AT  MARINER'S  REST        19 

came  I  was  sitting  in  the  corner  of  the  Mariner's 
Rest.  I  fretted  inwardly  that  I  was  there;  but  I 
persuaded  myself  that  I  had  better  get  used  to  her 
face  amid  the  distractions  of  other  interests  than 
to  wait  and  make  her  acquaintance  in  the  lonely; 
isolation  of  the  ship. 

I  found  the  inn,  if  possible,  more  noisy  than  on 
the  night  before.  During  the  day  two  or  three 
ships  had  come  in  from  distant  parts  and  many  of 
their  crews  were  carousing  heavily  after  the  long 
voyage.  Some  of  the  sailors  had  already  drunk 
themselves  into  a  stupor,  but  by  far  the  greater 
number  swore  and  shouted  lustily  in  their  cups. 
The  cry  of  wench,  wench,  rose  repeatedly,  and  at 
times  the  accompaniment  of  jocose  obscenity  was 
disgusting. 

The  maid  shrank  pitifully  from  contact  with  the 
rude  atmosphere  about  her;  yet  there  was  a  hopeful 
look  in  her  bright,  sparkling  eyes.  This  expres- 
sion I  set  down  as  due  to  the  fact  that  to-morrow 
she  would  be  free  of  all  this  and  once  more  in  the 
way  of  a  decent  life.  There  were  plenty  of  respect- 
able homes  to  be  had  in  the  colony  of  New  York, 
and  I  had  no  doubt  but  that  the  good  captain 
would  look  out  for  her  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 

Two  or  three  times  during  the  evening  the  drink- 
ers fell  to  brawling.  Once  at  a  game  of  cards  a 
Portuguese  sailor  clapped  his  cutlass  across  a 
comrade's  head  and  threatened  to  lop  ofT  his  pate 
if  he  said  a  word  more.    His  opponent  was  a  sniv- 


20  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

eling  bit  of  a  coward  who  whined  at  this  threat, 
but  swallowed  it  as  best  he  could,  which,  however, 
he  did  with  a  bad  grace,  being  neither  a  bully  nor 
a  thorough-going  jelly  fish  of  a  coward. 

I  could  hardly  stand  the  vile  smell  of  their  to- 
bacco, or  the  look  of  the  sloppy  pools  upon  the 
floor  where  they  splattered  the  foam  from  their  ale. 
I  was  minded  once  to  quit  the  room  altogether, 
and  had  even  risen  from  my  feet  to  go;  but  I 
noticed  that  the  clatter  of  mugs  and  the  din  of 
voices  and  the  stamping  of  feet  was  growing 
louder  with  every  minute.  The  hopeful  look  had 
crowded  out  of  the  girl's  face,  and  at  that  moment 
the  cry  of  wench  was  thundered  out,  together  with 
an  indecent  oath  that  made  me  wince.  She  cast  a 
scared  glance  of  appeal  in  my  direction.  I  sat  down 
again,  minded  to  wait  and  be  on  hand  in  case  she 
should  need  my  protection. 

She  approached  timidly  the  table  of  the  boor 
who  had  summoned  her.  She  set  down  the  con- 
tents of  her  tray  and  was  about  to  retreat  when 
he  caught  her  roughly  by  the  arm.  He  tried  to 
pull  her  down  upon  his  knee  and  made  as  if  to 
kiss  her.  I  was  on  my  feet  in  an  instant;  but  before 
I  could  stir  a  step  the  landlord  had  taken  her  part. 
He  fetched  the  drunken  sailor  a  blow  in  the  face 
that  stretched  him  on  the  ground  with  the  blood 
dripping  from  his  nose. 

"I  guess  she's  my  brat,  not  yours,"  cried  the 


THE  MAID  AT  MARINER'S  REST       21 

landlord  angrily.  "Wench,  get  back  to  your 
place." 

The  sailors  are  such  clannish  folk  that  I  fully 
expected  a  desperate  brawl  to  follow  the  landlord's 
attack.  There  was  some  violent  shuffling  of  feet 
in  the  corner,  and  one  or  two  men  started  up  and 
took  a  step  or  two  in  the  direction  of  the  afifray, 
eager  for  a  row.  But  before  the  mob's  anger 
could  come  to  a  focus,  someone  cried  out  in  a 
mocking  voice : 

"Portuguese  Tom's  got  his  lobster  now." 

There  must  have  been  some  local  quip  to  this 
phrase  that  I  did  not  understand,  for  it  produced  a 
storm  of  laughter,  after  which  they  fell  to  drinking 
again  in  the  best  of  jovial  good  humor.  Tom 
picked  himself  up,  a  little  crestfallen;  but  even  he 
joined  in  the  laugh  against  him.  As  soon  as  the 
crisis  was  passed  I  turned  my  attention  to  the  girl. 
She  had  not  moved  a  step  from  where  she  stood 
with  her  hands  clenched  and  her  lips  tightly  pressed 
together.  Her  position  and  the  expression  of  her 
face  were  both  so  full  of  fearless  scorn  that  I  could 
not  repress  an  exclamation  of  delight. 

"Bravo !"  I  cried. 

She  looked  at  me  and  relaxed  into  the  sensitive 
woman  instantly.  "Sit  down,"  she  said  lightly, 
motioning  me  to  resdme  my  seat.  "It  is  not  often 
so  bad  as  it  is  to-night;  but  it  is  over  and  well  over, 
too.     Thank  you,  sir;  thank  you." 

Though  I  had  done  nothing  she  had  seen  that  I 


22  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

had  been  ready  to  come  to  her  assistance.  "I  shall 
stay  till  the  room  is  cleared,"  I  whispered  as  she 
passed  me,  and  then  sat  down  in  my  place  again  to 
watch. 

I  remained  in  the  tavern  for  some  time;  in  fact, 
till  it  wore  on  towards  midnight.  Then,  a  bell 
ringing  in  the  town,  the  landlord  rose  and  advised 
his  guests  to  depart.  A  rule  of  the  city  closed  all 
public  houses  at  that  hour.  Slowly,  by  ones  and 
twos,  the  riotous  sailors  took  their  leave,  helping 
along  those  who  were  too  drunk  to  walk  alone. 
My  seat  was  in  the  corner  where  a  high  buffet 
threw  me  into  the  shadow.  For  this  reason  prob- 
ably the  host  overlooked  me,  and,  for  I  remained 
till  the  last,  he  thought  that  the  room  was  quite 
empty,  though  I  still  lingered  in  the  shadow.  He 
stepped  to  the  door  to  usher  out  the  last  guest. 
On  his  return  he  faced  the  girl  menacingly. 

"What  is  this  you  told  me  to-day?"  he  demanded 
in  a  fierce  tone. 

"I  am  going  to  leave  you,  sir." 

*'Ha,  hussy,  I  don't  know  about  that.  By  whose 
authority  are  you  going  to  leave?" 

"By  my  own."  She  did  not  quail  at  his  brutal 
tone,  but  stood  unflinching  as  she  had  stood  before 
the  brute  of  a  sailor  who  had  insulted  her  in  the 
early  evening.  "There  is  nothing  in  my  agreement 
to  prevent  my  going  when  I  like." 

"There  is  this  in  our  agreement,  wench,"  he 
said,  gripping  her  hand.    "We  are  here  alone,  and 


THE  MAID  AT.  MARINER'S  REST       23 

I  tell  you  plainly  that  you  do  not  leave  this  house. 
,You  know  what  I  can  do  when  I  am  in  earnest." 

"Let  go  my  hand,"  she  answered.  "You  hurt 
me. 

Instead  of  releasing  his  grip  he  squeezed  her 
.wrist  so  hard  that  she  cried  out  in  pain. 

"Yes,  let  go,"  said  I,  stepping  into  view. 

He  wheeled  round  in  amazement  and  dropped 
the  girl's  hand. 

"Who  the  devil  are  you?" 

The  excitement  of  the  evening  had  told  on  the 
girl's  nerves.  Her  spirit  was  weakened  as  we  stood 
in  the  deserted  room  that  a  moment  before  had 
been  a  very  bedlam.  "Oh,  take  me  away,"  she 
cried  piteously.  "He  will  beat  me  if  you  leave  me 
here." 

The  landlord  caught  up  a  chair  and  lifted  it 
above  his  head. 

"Get  out  of  here,'*  he  cried,  coming  toward  me 
with  a  swing  of  the  chair  aloft. 

"Too  fast,"  I  replied,  drawing  my  sword.  "Too 
fast,  my  friend.     Put  down  that  chair." 

He  obeyed  with  a  vengeance  and  I  sprang  aside 
just  in  time  to  avoid  the  blow.  The  chair  broke  to 
pieces  and  then  I  had  him  at  the  mercy  of  my 
sword.  He  was  a  bully  by  nature  and  a  coward  at 
heart.  He  was  soon  whimpering  in  the  corner  and 
begging  for  grace.  I  directed  the  girl  to  go  to  her 
room  and  get  ready  to  leave.  The  main  part  of  her 
luggage  was  already  aboard  the  brig  and  she  had 


24  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

left  but  a  few  things  to  take  with  her.  While  she 
was  doing  as  I  bade  her,  I  guarded  the  innkeeper 
and  enjoyed  the  scared  replies  he  made  to  my  con- 
tinual threats.  We  soon  left  him  to  shut  up  the 
shop  alone  and  went  out  into  the  street. 

"You  can  obtain  respectable  lodging  for  the 
night  in  the  house  next  to  where  I  am  stopping,"  I 
said.     "Will  you  let  me  take  you  there?" 

A  chill  breeze  was  blowing  from  the  sea  and  as 
we  walked  along  it  cooled  my  heated  temper.  It 
must  have  had  the  same  efifect  upon  the  girl,  for 
her  tight  grip  upon  my  arm  gradually  relaxed,  and 
by  the  time  we  reached  the  second  street  she  was 
walking  with  her  usual  alert  step. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said  after  a  while,  "from  your 
accent  you  must  be  French." 

"Ah,  yes,  from  Paris;  but  that  was  many  years 
ago.    There  is  the  house  I  am  taking  you  to." 

"Indeed,"  she  said  musingly.  "I  am  from  Paris, 
too.  Are  we  so  near  the  place?  I  am  almost  afraid 
to  go  to  a  strange  house  alone."  We  had  stopped 
beneath  one  of  the  occasional  lanterns  that  were 
hung  out  from  houses  to  light'  the  street.  "May  I 
know,"  she  continued,  "who  has  helped  me  to- 
night?" 

"My  name  is  Le  Bourse." 

"What!    What  did  you  say?" 

"Michael  Le  Bourse.  Is  my  name  a  strange 
one?" 

"Strange?"    She  caught  me   by  the   shoulders 


THE  MAID  AT  MARINER'S  REST       25 

and  twisted  me  towards  the  light,  looking  eagerly 
in  my  face.  "Was  I  right  last  night?"  she  contin- 
ued, all  of  a  tremble  with  excitement.  "Is  it — can 
it  be?"  Then  she  threw  herself  into  my  arms. 
"Don't  you  know  me,  Vincie,  don't  you  know 
me?" 

I  held  her  from  me  in  the  light;  then  I 
knew.  "Ruth,"  I  cried.  I  took  her  in  my 
arms  and  covered  her  face  with  kisses.  For  a  mo- 
ment we  had  nothing  to  say  to  each  other  there  in 
the  still  street  under  the  solitary  lantern.  There 
seemed  to  be  no  world  outside;  only  we  two :  I  and 
Ruth,  for  whom  I  had  sought  so  many  years. 

"Ruthie,"  I  kept  whispering  again  and  again. 
"I  have  found  my  little  Ruth." 


CHAPTER   III 
THE  ROYAL  LION 

How  long  we  stood  there  in  the  joy  of  that 
moment  I  can  never  say.  We  were  brought  back 
to  a  sense  of  our  surroundings  by  the  jarring  voice 
of  someone  speaking  to  us  from  the  sidewalk. 

"Ah  ha!  Bless  my  stars  if  it  isn't  my  two  pas- 
sengers all  in  one." 

It  was  Captain  Donaldson  who  had  spoken,  and 
I  was  glad  of  a  friend  to  turn  to,  for  I  was  at  my 
wits'  end  to  know  what  to  do.  Only  a  few  words 
were  necessary  to  acquaint  him  with  our  story. 
His  genial  eyes  stood  out  in  amazement  as  the  tale 
of  our  long  separation  and  accidental  meeting  un- 
folded itself  to  his  willing  sympathy. 

"God-a-mercy  me,"  he  cried,  striking  his  chest. 
"It  is  hard  to  believe  how  the  Lord  does  go  about 
it  to  work  His  will.  'Twas  only  yesterday.  Mis- 
tress Ruth,  that  I  was  charging  him  to  fall  in  love 
with  you,  and  now  I  suppose  I  shall  lose  both  my 
passengers." 

He  took  on  a  thoughtful  look  at  the  idea  of  los- 
ing us.  After  a  moment's  deliberation,  however,  he 
clapped  his  hands  together. 

"Well,  that  shall  not  prevent  my  sailing  at  the 
usual  hour;  no,  not  if  I  have  to  go  empty-cabined 
inside  and  out." 

26 


THE  ROYAL  LION  27i 

Ruth,  who  clung  to  my  arm  affectionately  as  if 
she  feared  to  lose  me  again,  assured  the  good  cap- 
tain that  she  saw  no  reason  why  we  should  not  go 
on  as  we  had  planned.  In  fact,  though  we  had 
not  thought  it  all  out,  we  saw  our  way  clear  to 
continue  our  journey  to  America.  It  was  a  long 
distance,  to  be  sure,  but  we  had  overcome  the 
greatest  obstacle  when  we  had  first  made  up  our 
minds  to  go;  besides,  both  Ruth  and  I  were  full 
of  anxious  curiosity  to  see  the  new  land  where 
so  many  of  our  countrymen  had  found  homes  of 
comfort  and  prosperity.  Suddenly  the  captain 
broke  out  anew  with  a  surprised  question : 

"What  are  the  two  of  you  doing  here  locking 
arms  at  midnight?" 

I  told  him  our  adventure  and  all  about  the  brawl 
at  the  tavern,  and  where  I  intended  to  take  Ruth 
to. 

"It  will  never  do,"  he  said.  "It  will  never  do  to 
rouse  decent  folk  up  at  this  time  o'  night.  Odds 
man,  they've  been  in  bed  this  three  hours  past,  and 
it's  a  warm  welcome  you'd  get  at  one  o'clock.  No, 
no,  it  will  never  do.  Come  with  me  to  the  ship  and 
I'll  make  stowaways  of  ye  both  till  morning." 

The  three  of  us  set  out  together  along  the  qiuet 
streets  to  the  dock.  Now  that  the  distracting 
noise  of  traffic  was  all  spent,  I  found  the  vague  roof 
of  ship  fronts  under  which  we  picked  our  way 
silently  far  different  from  what  it  was  by  day. 
Every  vessel  creaked  and  groaned  in  a  thousand 


28  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

joints;  the  air  fairly  reeked  with  the  smell  of 
tar  and  cordage;  the  heaving  hulks  and  the  tall 
figureheads  looming  upon  the  prows  were  ghostly 
in  their  slow  rise  and  fall.  I  was  glad  to  get  away 
from  the  lonely  neighborhood  and  reach  the  Royal 
Lion;  Ruth  no  less  so,  for  she  was  a  timid  child 
when  the  excitement  of  the  moment  was  passed. 

Captain  Donaldson  offered  to  provide  for  us,  but 
we  had  so  much  to  talk  about  that  we  were  quite 
content  to  huddle  upon  the  deck  with  a  pair  of 
shawls  to  shield  us  from  the  wind. 

Ruth  told  me  that  she  had  escaped  from  La 
Rochelle  in  safety  ten  years  before  and  had  found  a 
good  home  in  England,  where  she  had  wearied 
through  the  years  waiting  for  me.  Her  experience 
had  not  been  wholly  unlike  my  own.  After  many 
years  her  mistress  had  died  and,  about  the  same 
time  that  my  good  master  was  sent  to  the  Tower, 
Ruth  was  cast  upon  her  own  resources.  Before 
this  event  occurred,  however,  she  had  given  up  all 
hope  of  my  coming.  Upon  her  mistress'  death 
she  made  up  her  mind  to  go  to  one  of  the  Hugue- 
not settlements  in  America.  With  this  intent  she 
had  set  out  for  Bristol.  Footpads  and  highwaymen 
on  land  were  then  as  likely  to  be  met  with  as 
buccaneers  upon  the  sea.  The  van  which  brought 
her  to  Bristol  was  waylaid  and  Ruth,  as  well  as  the 
other  passengers,  robbed  of  all  they  had.  She  ar- 
rived in  Bristol  penniless  and  had  to  take  what  em- 
ployment came  to  hand  in  order  to  earn  a  living. 


THE  ROYAL  LION  29 

Thus  it  happened  that  she  was  compelled  to  such 
base  labor  at  the  Mariner's  Rest. 

"Oh,  Vincie,"  she  sobbed.     "It  was  so  hard." 

An  angry  tremble  shook  me  as  I  thought  of  her 
harsh  treatment;  then  I  recalled  the  threat  the  land- 
lord had  made  in  my  hearing. 

"What  did  he  mean  when  he  said  that  you  knew 
what  he  could  do  when  he  was  in  earnest?" 

"Do  not  think  of  that,"  she  answered  softly.  She 
was  always  so  forgiving.     "It  is  all  past  now." 

"Tell  me  what  he  meant,"  I  continued  fiercely. 
"Did  he  ever  dare  to — " 

"Hush,  Vincie,"  she  murmured,  putting  her 
fingers  over  my  mouth;  but  I  shook  her  hand 
down,  "He — must  I  tell  you?"  she  continued  with 
hesitation,  not  wanting  to  anger  me  further.  But 
I  insisted  that  she  should  speak  out.  "Well,  he 
beat  me  once, — but  not  hard.  What  are  you  going 
to  do?" 

I  sprang  to  my  feet  and  took  two  steps  toward 
the  gangway;  then  Ruth  was  at  my  elbow.  She 
gripped  m.e  by  the  arm. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Never  mind  what  I  am  going  to  do.     Let  me 

go- 

"I  shall  not  let  you  go,"  tightening    her  grip. 

"Stop." 

I  looked  at  her  in  amazement.  I  remembered 
her  as  a  timid  child  when  I  used  to  think  out  and 
plan  everything  she  did.    But  the  case  was  different 


30  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

now.  I  had  a  notion  to  shake  her  off  and  was  al- 
most on  the  point  of  saying  as  I  used  to,  "Hush, 
you  are  a  mere  child."  But  there  was  a  look  in 
her  eyes  which  told  me  plainly  that  childhood  was 
past  and  that,  between  us  two,  I  was  no  longer  the 
master. 

"Let  me  go,  Ruth,"  I  said.  But  I  spoke  with- 
out spirit,  and  when  I  added  "Please"  she  only 
shook  her  head  and  began  to  draw  me  back  to 
where  we  had  been  sitting. 

"I  am  ashamed  of  you,"  she  said,  but  very  gently. 
"Do  you  no  longer  read  your  Bible,  Vincie?" 

"Aye,"  I  answered,  jumping  at  the  chance  her 
reference  gave  me.  "And  it  says  that  whoso  shed- 
deth  man's  blood  by  man  shall  his  blood  be  shed." 

"But  he  did  not  shed  my  blood." 

"Give  eye  for  eye,  tooth  for  tooth, — blow  for 
blow." 

"Ah,  Vincie,  you  read  only  where  you  like;  love 
thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  Have  you  forgot  the  par- 
able of  the  cloak?  You  must  love  your  enemies 
and  pray  for  them  who  persecute  you.  Were  we 
driven  out  of  home  for  Jesus'  sake  to  deny  all  His 
teachings  and  forswear  His  word?  No,  no,  brother, 
do  not  forget  the  woman  taken  in  adultery,  and 
how  she  was  brought  before  the  Christ?  Where 
were  her  accusers  then?  Vincent,  turn  the  word  of 
God  into  your  own  wicked  heart  before  you  judge 
your  neighbor.  What  shall  I  say  at  the  great  day 
if  they  say  to  me :    'Your  brother  did  this  or  that 


THE  ROYAL  LION  31 

wrong  act  in  your  name?'  Answer  me,  Vincent, 
what  shall  I  say  then?" 

I  could  make  no  answer.  Her  pure  spirit  over- 
came me.  I  could  only  ask  her  to  forgive  me. 
She  bade  me  kneel  down  upon  the  deck  just  as  we 
used  to  kneel  when  we  were  children.  Ruth  prayed 
that  I  might  come  into  a  better  spirit.  I  w^as  in 
much  need  of  her  gentleness,  and  with  great  dili- 
gence she  set  to  work  to  curb  my  resentment 
against  the  Catholics,  which  ten  long  years  of  dis- 
appointment and  continual  warfare  had  tempered 
to  the  hardness  of  steel.  Every  morning  upon  the 
deck  as  we  sped  across  the  wide  ocean  she  wrought 
against  my  contrary  spirit  till  it  was  partly  broken. 
My  little  Ruth,  whom  I  had  protected  so  zealously 
in  her  childhood,  wound  me  around  her  finger  and 
ruled  me  firmly,  but  with  all  the  gentleness  of  love. 

"For  if  ye  forgive  men  their  trespasses,  your 
heavenly  Father  will  also  forgive  you."  Her  words 
and  the  promises  she  talked  about  in  the  good 
Book  were  Hke  music,  and  I  was  beginning  to  be 
a  better  man.  "Did  we  not  prophesy  in  thy  name, 
and  by  thy  name  cast  out  devils?"  She  showed  me 
what  all  this  meant,  and  that  if  I  went  on  in  the 
way  I  had  begun  I  should  some  day  be  face  to  face 
with  the  great  denial:  "And  then  shall  I  profess 
unto  them,  I  never  knew  you;  depart  from  me,  ye 
that  work  iniquity." 

Such  was  the  burden  of  her  teaching.  She 
spoke  much  of  the  golden  rule,  and  by  that  text 


32  PAT  ROOM  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

slae  brought  me  to  see  how  my  fierce  zeal  against 
the  Roman  church  was  but  persecution  under 
cover  of  my  own  selfish  faith  as  the  Catholics  per- 
secuted under  theirs.  I  remember  one  afternoon 
in  particular  when  we  were  more  than  half  way 
across  the  Atlantic.  We  were  nestling  in  the  bow 
of  the  ship  beneath  a  flapping  sail,  and  Ruth  sat  by 
my  side,  and  teaching  me,  just  as  Jesus  may  have 
taught  his  disciples  not  to  forget  what  He  was 
telling  them.  The  sun  beat  down  warm  and  com- 
fortable upon  the  deck.  The  merry  surface  of  the 
water  laughed  in  skipping  sunlight.  She  had 
talked  to  me  a  long  time  that  afternoon,  and  as  she 
talked  a  great  peace  came  upon  me  and  little  by 
little  the  remorse  for  my  evil  ways  slipped  away  and 
vanished  at  her  forgiving  words. 

Suddenly  our  attention  was  attracted  by  a  com- 
motion on  the  main  deck  where  the  cannons  were. 
The  sailors  began  to  run  this  way  and  that  in  great 
confusion.  Half  a  dozen  of  them  started  to  drag 
the  canvas  covers  off  the  guns  and  to  get  them 
ready  for  use.  Others  ran  below  to  the  magazine 
to  bring  up  powder  and  small  arms.  I  could  not 
make  out  what  all  this  rumpus  was  about  till  I 
glanced  in  the  direction  of  the  cannons'  aim  and 
saw  a  large,  square-rigged  vessel  about  a  mile  away, 
tearing  down  upon  us  like  a  tower  tilted  against 
the  sky.  Surely  all  this  preparation  must  be  to  re- 
pel an  attack,  and  I  guessed  at  once  that  the 
strange  ship  was  a  buccaneer.  Our  passengers  were 


THE  ROYAL  LION  33 

in  a  great  scare  when  they  found  out  the  truth. 
A  little  baby  whose  mother  lay  sick  in  the  cabin  set 
up  a  wail  of  fright  at  the  unusual  sounds.  No 
notice  was  taken  of  the  child,  however,  till  Ruth 
took  it  up  in  her  arms  and  hushed  it  to  sleep. 

Captain  Donaldson  was  the  coolest  head  among 
us.  He  spoke  some  hearty  words  to  his  crew  and 
bade  them  get  ready  to  fight.  Some  of  them  went 
forward  to  man  the  guns  in  the  bow;  others 
climbed  into  the  rigging  to  shoot  down  upon  the 
enemy's  deck  when  she  came  alongside;  small  arms 
were  dealt  out  to  the  rest  of  us  who  stood  waiting 
near  the  main  hatch.  By  the  time  all  our  opera- 
tions were  complete  the  hostile  ship  was  not  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  and  soon  she  spread 
the  flag  of  the  buccaneers. 

"I  knew  it,"  shouted  our  captain,  and  the  crew 
responded  with  a  rousing  cheer.  I  could  scarce 
understand  the  reason  of  their  joy,  but  put  it  down 
to  their  love  of  a  good  fight,  and  the  escape  from 
the  humiliation  that  would  have  followed  all  their 
hurry  if  the  ship  had  turned  out  a  peaceful  trader. 
I  think  the  shame  of  having  made  a  mistake  as  to 
the  character  of  the  approaching  vessel  would  have 
smote  them  harder  than  a  battle.  Before  the  ship 
had  got  near  us,  all  the  women  were  sent  below  as 
a  matter  of  precaution.  Very  soon  two  long-boats, 
bristhng  with  weapons,  put  off  from  the  buccaneer. 

The  two  boats  tilted  merrily  along  the  waves 
till  they  were  half  way  to  our  ship.    By  that  time 


U  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

some  men  in  the  pirate's  rigging  must  have  made 
out  the  strength  of  our  defenses,  for  the  long-boats 
were  hastily  summoned  back  and  taken  on  board 
the  ship  again.  The  buccaneer  now  came  on  under 
full  sail.  As  it  drew  near  we  could  see  a  squad  of 
men  at  each  end  with  ropes  and  grappling  irons 
ready  to  lash  us  fast  the  moment  we  touched. 

Ten  minutes  later,  after  a  harmless  exchange  of 
cannon  shots,  the  two  ships  were  lashed  fast  to- 
gether and  the  pirates  were  popping  over  our  side 
like  frogs  into  a  pond.  Captain  Donaldson  had 
placed  his  men  in  two  lines  in  such  a  position  that 
the  buccaneers  had  to  jump  aboard  between  them. 
The  pirates  set  themselves  back  to  back  in  the 
middle  of  the  ship  and  fought  both  ways  at  once. 
Donaldson  cut  down  the  leader  of  the  band  op- 
posed to  us.  At  this  his  party  lost  heart  and  gave 
back  a  step  or  two  upon  their  comrades.  They 
were  now  so  close  together  that  one  party  of  the 
pirates  hampered  the  other.  They  fell  into  con- 
fusion, and  in  two  minutes  we  were  chasing  them 
back  into  their  own  ship. 

It  is  always  easier  to  defend  than  to  attack.  The 
moment  the  situation  was  reversed  and  we  stood 
■upon  the  offensive,  we  found  our  difficulties  grown 
tenfold.  Captain  Donaldson's  voice  rang  clear 
above  the  din,  bidding  his  men  to  stand  firm  and 
capture  the  ship.  Suddenly  the  clamor  increased 
at  a  great  rate,  and  I  heard  hasty  orders  given  to 
retreat  to  the  Royal  Lion.    There  was  scuffling  on 


THE  ROYAL  LION  35 

the  deck,  shouts,  and  orders  given  in  quick  sik:- 
cession;  then  one  of  the  grappling  chains  broke 
with  a  noise  Hke  the  report  of  a  cannon.  Just  at 
that  moment  I  was  engaged  in  a  close  fight  with 
one  of  the  pirates  and  could  not  turn  my  head  to 
see  what  was  happening.  So  long  as  he  kept  his 
sword  flashing  before  my  eyes  I  had  no  desire  to 
look  otherwise  than  to  my  guard,  and  my  pride 
would  not  let  me  run.  But  soon  I  had  him,  for  all 
he  was  a  good  fighter,  and,  by  the  time  he  slumped 
backward  with  a  groan,  the  ships  had  drifted  apart, 
and  there  was  fifty  feet  of  clear  water  between  me 
and  my  friends. 

Captain  Donaldson  made  every  effort  to  put  his 
ship  alongside  again;  but  the  pirates  had  had 
enough  of  fight  for  that  day  and  their  ship  was  the 
faster  sailer.  My  heart  sank  as  I  saw  the  gulf 
widening  between  us;  nor  could  I  catch  a  last 
glance  of  Ruth,  who  had  gone  below  with  the  sleep- 
ing baby  in  her  arms  at  the  beginning  of  the  en- 
gagement. 

In  this  way  our  short-lived  reunion  came  to  an 
end.  I  watched  the  Royal  Lion  drop  behind  till, 
night  coming  on,  I  could  no  longer  see  her. 
Strange  to  say,  my  captors  had  nothing  to  say  to 
me  for  a  while,  and  left  me  quite  alone  as 
long  as  I  wished  to  keep  my  eyes  on  the  ves- 
sel that  contained  my  sister.  In  fact  the  treat- 
ment I  met  with  at  the  hands  of  the  bucca- 
neers was  such  as  to  belie  much  of  what  I  had 


36  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

heard  concerning  their  reprobate  character.  When 
I  passed  my  word  of  honor,  they  allowed  me  the 
freedom  of  the  deck  and  set  no  sort  of  watch  upon 
me.  Some  of  them  who  thought  that  I  had 
showed  bravery  in  the  fight  even  pressed  me  to  join 
their  crew,  ofifering  me  equal  rights  with  the  buc- 
caneers who  had  ventured  money  in  the  ship. 
Though  I  would  not  hear  to  this,  I  won  favor  in 
other  ways,  particularly  by  casting  their  accounts 
and  by  writing  fair  in  the  logbook.  I  practiced  a 
good  hand  for  the  latter  business,  which  was  event- 
ually the  means  of  saving  my  life.  One  day  when' 
I  was  engrossing  the  date  in  large  round  letters 
at  the  top  of  the  page,  the  captain,  who  was  looking 
over  my  shoulder,  began  to  laugh.  He  would  not 
tell  me  what  amused  him,  though  he  imparted  it  to 
his  companions.  Each  one  as  he  heard  it  looked 
at  me  and  clapped  his  hands  for  fun.  It  was  not 
long,  however,  before  I  understood  how  they  in- 
tended to  make  use  of  my  scanty  store  of  learning. 

About  a  week  later  we  sighted  a  point  of  land. 
Though  w^e  soon  passed  this  cape,  I  knew  by  many 
signs  that  we  were  making  for  the  coast.  That 
afternoon  the  chief  spoke  to  me  in  the  cabin. 

"Monsieur  Le  Bourse,  you  know  very  well  that 
you  are  our  prisoner,  and  we  paid  dear  for  you, 
too;  that  was  a  jolly  brush  we  had  with  the  Royal 
Lion.  Once  more,  and  this  is  the  last  time  I'll 
say  so,  you  can  have  full  freedom  and  a  share  in 
the  prize  money  if  you  will  sign  our  articles." 


THE  ROYAL  LION  37 

"I  shall  not  do  it,"  I  replied  haughtily.  "Take 
yourown  way  with  me." 

At  that  he  opened  a  locker,  not  at  all  offended 
by  my  manner,  and  drew  out  a  suit  of  black  clothes 
and  a  powdered  wig  which  he  told  me  to  put  on. 
This  done  he  handed  me  a  book  and  a  silver-topped 
cane. 

"Now  walk,"  he  cried,  "from  here  to  the  port- 
hole and  back  again.  There,  there,  you'll  do,"  he 
went  on,  chuckling  with  delight.  "Now,  look  you 
here,  Monsieur  Le  Bourse,  we  are  going  to  redeem 
you  in  the  plantations  for  a  schoolmaster,  for  they 
are  sore  in  need  of  a  little  sense  in  Lord  Balti- 
more's colony.  That's  where  we  shall  set  you.  On 
my  life,  we'll  do  it!  And  a  brave  dominie  you'll 
make  in  your  black  coat  and  wig." 

I  did  not  resent  this  arbitrary  disposition  of  my 
services.  I  had  expected  to  walk  the  plank,  and 
this  was  a  great  sight  better  than  that.  So  I 
waited  patiently  for  this  new  change  in  my  for- 
tunes. On  the  evening  before  we  reached  port  I 
was  seated  in  the  bow  of  the  ship  alone.  No  one 
was  near  me,  and  soon  the  captain  crept  stealthily 
to  my  side. 

"We'll  bind  you  out  for  five  years  of  service,"  he 
began.  "Whoever  takes  you  will  pay  us  twenty 
pounds."  He  tossed  a  purse  into  my  lap.  "There's 
the  money  in  good  pieces  of  eight,  Spanish  gold. 
Never  say  Ned  Teach  of  Bristol's  not  a  gentleman 
of  honor." 


38  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENDERG 

I  pressed  him  to  know  the  cause  of  so  much  gen- 
erosity; and  I  learned  that  the  man  I  had  killed  in 
the  fray  was  a  desperate  mutineer  who  threatened 
to  overthrow  the  captaincy  of  Teach. 

"Now,"  continued  the  buccaneer,  "you've  got 
some  money,  and  if  you  don't  find  a  way  to  escape 
in  less  than  six  months  you  deserve  to  hang." 

The  approach  of  some  of  the  crew  prevented  any 
further  talk  between  us.  The  next  day  we  ran  into 
port.  I  was  duly  bound  out  to  service  in  the  ca- 
pacity of  what  is  called  a  redemptioner.  This  kind 
of  service,  I  was  told,  received  its  name  from  the 
fact  that  the  redemptioner,  or  bond-servant,  could 
buy  back  his  freedom  by  paying  a  certain  sum  of 
money  at  any  time  after  five  years  of  service.  It 
was  into  this  kind  of  bond  that  Ruth  had  intended 
to  enter  before  I  found  her  in  Bristol.  As  I  had 
given  her  but  little  ready  money,  I  feared  that  fate 
had  again  laid  its  harsh  hand  on  Ruth  and  me 
alike. 

The  immediate  effect  upon  me  of  my  service,  or 
imprisonment,  for  such  it  really  was,  was  to  undo 
what  small  tolerance  towards  the  Roman  church 
I  had  learned  from  Ruth.  The  buccaneers  bound 
me  out  to  a  Catholic  owner  of  plantations,  and 
soon,  upon  an  attempt  to  escape,  he  had  me 
stripped  and  flogged  at  the  public  whipping  post 
on  a  crowded  market  day.  I  was  kept  close  after 
that  and  not  allowed  to  stray  from  the  spot  of  my 
labors. 


.'  ( 


THE  ROYAL  LION  39 

For  some  time,  in  memory  of  Ruth,  I  struggled 
hard  against  a  change  of  heart.  But  Httle  by- 
little  my  bitter  hatred  came  back  to  me,  and  the 
mere  shadow  of  a  Catholic  was  something  to  be 
trampled  under  foot  and  spat  upon.  I  resolved  to 
make  my  escape,  come  what  would,  and  to  this 
end  I  was  alert  to  every  accident  that  could  be 
turned  to  my  advantage. 

At  that  time  the  governments  of  Europe,  and 
especially  of  England,  were  determined  to  put 
down  the  evil  practices  of  the  buccaneers.  Orders 
were  sent  to  all  the  American  colonies  to  arrest 
the  pirates  wherever  found.  They  were  by  this 
means  driven  from  the  larger  ports  and  forced  to 
frequent  the  smaller  villages  on  the  sea.  Some- 
times, nay,  generally,  their  visits  were  connived  at 
because  of  their  liberal  exchange  in  captured  goods 
and  of  the  cupidity  of  the  merchants.  It  chanced, 
however,  that  an  occasional  honest  magistrate 
made  a  rapid  descent  upon  some  unexpected  place 
and  captured  a  rover  in  an  out  of  the  way  anchor- 
age. 

I  had  been  in  Maryland  nearly  a  year  when  an 
event  occurred  that  offered  me  a  desperate  chance 
of  freedom.  Captain  Tew,  a  noted  pirate,  was  dis- 
covered lying  in  a  cove  not  far  away.  The  planter 
to  whom  I  was  bound  out,  and  who  was  also  mag- 
istrate of  the  district,  prepared  to  capture  the  buc- 
caneer. By  accident  I  learned  his  plans.  They  were 
so  well  laid  that,  if  carried  out  in  secrecy,  they 


40  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

could  not  but  be  successful.  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  warn  the  pirate  of  his  danger,  to  win  thereby 
his  gratitude,  and  purchase  the  means  of  flight.  I 
succeeded  in  my  venture  by  so  narrow  a  margin 
that  Captain  Tew  was  quite  aware  that  I  had  ren- 
dered him  a  great  service.  His  gratitude  knew  no 
bounds.  Though  he  had  intended  to  sail  farther 
to  the  south,  he  set  his  vessel  northward  again  in 
order  to  land  me  near  New  York,  where  I  hoped 
to  find  Ruth  awaiting  me.  But  before  we  reached 
our  destination  he  did  me  the  service  I  have  al- 
ready spoken  of.  Upon  the  gift  he  gave  me  the 
day  before  we  reached  Long  Island  turned  an 
important  part  of  my  career  in  the  province  of 
New  York. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  BUCCANEER'S  GIFT 

We  made  a  quick  sail  from  Maryland  to  the 
neighborhood  of  New  York  and  drew  near  Long 
Island  on  a  bright  day  in  August.  The  stiff  wind 
caught  up  the  jetting  water  from  the  prow  of  our 
ship  and  rained  it  down  upon  the  slant  of  the  waves 
with  a  rattle  like  sand  falling  upon  the  deck.  I 
clung  to  the  rail  with  both  my  hands  and  my 
heart  rose  higher  with  every  bound  of  the  ship. 

*'You  look  merry  to-day,"  cried  Captain  Tew 
at  my  elbow.  "I  have  good  news.  The  lookout  on 
the  mizzen  top  has  sighted  land." 

I  stretched  one  hand  towards  the  horizon  as  if  I 
could  reach  Ruth.  The  buccaneer  seemed  to 
understand  my  gesture  for  he  continued: 

"She's  been  there  a  year,  you  say?  That's  a  long 
time  to  stay  in  Yorke.  I  suppose  she  took  service 
up  the  Hudson,  perhaps  even  as  far  as  Albany  on 
the  great  Van  Rensselaer  estate.  Do  you  know 
any  one  in  Yorke?" 

"Not  a  soul,"  I  answered,  the  admission  damp- 
ing my  spirits  somewhat.  "But  I  shall  hunt  up 
the  Huguenot  pastor  and  inquire  of  him." 

"I  mean  no  offense.  Monsieur  Le  Bourse,"  con- 
tinued the  pirate.  "But  if  you  will  take  my  advice 
you  will  go  slow  in  your  dealing  with  your  coun- 

41 


42  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

trymen  in  Yorke.  I  hear  they  have  been  on  the 
fence  since  the  RebelHon: — one  year  Leisler  men; 
the  next,  Jacobites  to  a  man.  I  don't  know  much 
of  the  new  governor  either,  curse  him,  except  that 
he  keeps  us  out  of  the  port." 

He  stopped  talking  and  looked  down  absently 
at  the  buttons  of  his  coat,  fondling  them  tenderly, 
and  turning  them  up  one  by  one  so  that  he  could 
look  at  the  device  engraved  on  them. 

"Fine  buttons,  Monsieur,  fine  buttons.  Did  you 
ever  stop  to  look  at  the  workmanship  and  the  coat 
of  arms  on  the  back?  It  goes  hard  with  me  to 
part  with  them,  it  does  indeed."  Then  he  cried 
out  more  to  himself  than  to  me,  as  if  he  had  made 
tip  his  mind  to  a  difficult  task:  "You  old  ungrate- 
ful dog!  Off  with  the  pair,  I  say,  off  on  the 
instant !" 

With  that  he  drew  his  cutlass  and  slashed  away 
clumsily  at  two  of  the  buttons  which  he  presented 
to  me,  holding  them  out  on  the  flat  of  his  hand. 

"I'm  an  ungrateful  dog  to  think  twice  about 
letting  them  go,  but  you  must  know  their  value. 
They  came  to  me  from  his  Excellency,  Colonel 
Benjamin  Fletcher.  Ah,  he  was  a  merry  soul. 
When  he  was  governor  of  Yorke  we  had  no  trou- 
ble to  land,  but  the  present  earl  sets  close  watch 
upon  the  ports.  You'll  find  the  city  as  full  of 
brawls  as  tobacco  is  of  smoke.  There  are  Jacobites 
and  Earl's  men  and  the  devil  knows  what  besides. 
You  may  be  sure  of  one  thing:    whatever  is  at 


THE  BUCCANEER'S  GIFT  43 

stake,  Kilian  Van  Volkenberg  will  be  at  logger- 
heads with  the  new  earl.  When  you  get  there,  show 
these  buttons  to  Kilian.  He  brought  them  to  me 
from  Fletcher.  I'll  stake  my  ship  and  cargo  he'll 
do  all  that  the  love  of  a  good  fat  bargain  can  make 
a  Dutch  merchant  do." 

Soon  after  this  conversation  the  buccaneer  took' 
me  into  his  cabin  where  he  presented  me  with  a 
purse  of  money,  a  pair  of  pistols,  and  a  handsomely 
mounted  sword.  All  these  articles  put  together, 
he  assured  me,  were  not  worth  the  eye-hole  of  one 
of  the  buttons.  "For,"  as  he  said,  "old  Ben  Fletch- 
er was  a  merry  dog  and  profitable  to  the  jolly  sea- 
rovers." 

An  hour  later  we  sighted  land  from  the  deck. 
During  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  our  ship  stood  off 
and  on,  waiting  for  night.  As  soon  as  it  grew  dark 
enough  to  conceal  my  landing,  a  long-boat  was 
lowered  and  they  put  me  ashore  at  Gravesoon.  As 
I  went  down  the  side  of  the  ship,  Captain  Tew 
bade  me  a  last  farewell.  He  thanked  me  again  and 
again  for  the  warning  I  had  given  him,  assuring 
me  that  I  had  saved  him  and  his  ship  and  all  his 
crew. 

"Commend  me  to  Kilian,"  he  said.  "And  to 
Ben  Fletcher,  and  mind  the  factions  in  the  city — 
and — and — oh,  yes,  there's  Mistress  Miriam,  the 
patroon's  daughter.  Tell  her  that  old  Tommy  Tew 
hasn't  forgotten  her  pretty  face,  and  he'll  bring 


44  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

her  something  from  the  east  when  he  returns.  God 
speed !" 

The  long-boat  shoved  off  and  soon  I  was  on 
land.  I  have  already  told  how  I  made  my  way  to 
Gravesoon  where  the  host  of  the  ordinary  was 
curious  to  know  the  manner  of  my  arrival,  as  well 
as  anxious  to  teach  me  how  to  blow  a  summons 
upon  a  conch. 

I  went  to  bed  that  night,  as  I  have  already  stated, 
and  rose  early  the  next  morning  to  set  out  on  foot. 
The  distance  to  Breuckelen  was  about  ten  miles 
across  the  end  of  the  island.  The  day  was  bright 
and  cheery,  and  the  road  passed  through  a  rich 
country  of  farms.  This  region  supplied  most  of 
the  food  for  the  city  and  was  carefully  tilled  by 
the  various  tenants  of  the  island.  On  nearing  the 
Sound  the  road,  which  was  a  poor,  rutty  track  at 
the  best,  dipped  steeply  from  a  crest  and  in  a  hun- 
dred yards  I  was  at  the  water's  edge.  A  small 
wooden  platform  floated  on  the  surface  and  near, 
tethered  to  a  tree  by  a  thong  of  buckskin,  hung  the 
sea  shell.  I  put  it  to  my  lips  and,  thanks  to  my, 
practice  of  the  night  before,  I  was  able,  after  one 
or  two  unavailing  attempts,  to  send  forth  a  dull 
wail  that  echoed  over  the  water  and  back  again, 
half  a  dozen  times. 

While  I  was  waiting  for  the  ferryman  to  come 
from  the  Yorke  side  of  the  river,  my  eyes  scanned 
the  town  impatiently.  The  city  lay  huddled  on  the 
side  of  a  hill  covered  with  verdure.     The  tiers  of 


THE  BUCCANEER'S  GIFT  45 

flaming  red-tiled  roofs  extended  nearly  to  the 
water's  edge  where  the  white  walls  of  the  lower 
houses  made  visible  the  cluster  of  masts  swaying  in 
the  harbor.  Two  structures  stood  out  in  conspic- 
uous prominence  before  the  rest  of  the  town.  High 
on  the  right  loomed  the  Stadt  Huys,  topped  by  a 
pointed  belfry.  To  the  left  on  a  bold  hump  of 
rock  squatted  the  low  fort.  There  the  eye  lingered 
with  most  interest.  The  slender  staff  floated  the 
flag  of  England.  In  one  corner  the  double  gable 
of  the  fort  chapel  peeped  above  the  top  of  the 
bastions.  What  must  have  been  the  portholes  were 
mere  black  blotches  upon  the  gray  face  of  the  wall; 
and  below,  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  cliff,  the  cHmbing 
surf  fretted  the  rocks  with  foam. 

My  eyes  were  not  drawn  from  the  pleasing  scene 
for  fully  half  an  hour.  By  that  time  the  boatman 
had  crossed  the  river.  On  the  way  back  both  wind 
and  tide  were  against  us  and  the  crossing  took 
much  longer.  We  passed  beyond  the  greater  part 
of  the  town,  having  it  upon  our  left,  and  landed  at 
a  little  half-moon  battery  which  projected  into  the 
East  River  near  what  was  called  the  Water  Gate. 
This  gate  was  the  eastern  entrance  to  the  city 
through  the  Wall,  a  line  of  palisades  backed  by  a 
ditch  that  extended  quite  across  the  city  from  the 
East  River  to  the  Hudson.  It  formed  the  north- 
ern boundary  of  New  York,  and  thus  it  happened 
that  I  entered  the  city  from  the  rear  or  landward 
side. 


46  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

'There  is  the  way  to  Van  Volkenberg  manor,'* 
said  the  ferryman,  advancing  one  arm  like  a  guide- 
post  and  pointing  along  a  road  that  vanished 
northward  among  the  wooded  hills.  "But  you'll 
do  no  good  to  follow  it  now.  The  patroon  will 
be  in  the  city  to-day.  It  is  all  furred  up  with  ex- 
citement at  the  meeting  of  the  new  assembly.  What 
are  you,  white  or  blue?" 

I  assured  him  that  I  was  a  stranger  and  that  I 
belonged  to  neither  party  as  yet;  at  this  informa- 
tion he  lost  all  interest  in  my  affairs.  Even  from 
that  distance  I  could  hear  the  confused  din  of 
shouting  crowds  bowling  along  the  streets  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  town.  While  I  stood  irresolute, 
trying  to  decide  whether  to  go  north  towards  the 
manor-house  or  south  into  town,  I  caught  sight  of 
a  woman  in  the  distance.  I  made  off  hastily  in  her 
direction  with  my  mind  constantly  upon  Ruth.  I 
laughed  to  myself  when,  all  out  of  breath,  I  caught 
up  with  the  woman  and  found  her  a  squalid  wife 
with  clumsy  wooden  shoes  that  clattered  noisily 
over  the  stepping  stones  of  the  unpaved  street. 

In  this  pursuit  I  had  followed  the  street  next 
the  Wall  which  was  bordered  on  the  left  by  the 
houses  of  the  chimney  sweeps.  Now  and  then  a 
besooted  urchin  would  run  out  in  front  of  me, 
point  to  his  grimy  rags  and  call  out:  "Hi,  mynher! 
I'm  an  Earl's  man."  This  would  set  him  and  half 
a  dozen  other  sweeps  to  laughing.  I  did  not  under- 
stand the  humor  of  the  youngster's  joke  till  later 


THE  BUCCANEER'S  GIFT  47. 

when  I  found  that  white  was  the  color  of  the  Earl's 
party.  Then  the  thought  of  his  little  partisans 
dressed  in  their  sooty  rags  would  set  me  laughing 
with  a  will. 

There  was  a  smell  of  slops  to  the  street  next  the 
Wall  and  nothing  attractive  about  its  appearance. 
I  soon  came  to  a  turning  and,  as  I  glanced  down 
an  avenue  curving  broadly  to  the  left,  I  stood  still 
with  wonder.  As  far  as  I  could  see  the  street  was 
loosely  filled  wdth  people.  They  were  in  constant 
motion;  now  opening  into  a  gap,  now  closing  into 
a  compact  mass  from  house  to  house;  yet  the 
crowd  did  not  grow  smaller  nor  did  it  move  one 
way  more  than  another. 

Above  their  heads  flags  projected  from  every 
house-front.  Many  were  white,  a  few  were  blue; 
the  most  distant  were  indistinguishable  as  to  color, 
being  mere  silhouette  patches  against  the  sky. 
They  made  a  pretty  sight,  fluttering  together  in 
the  breeze  as  if  the  houses  trembled  with  the  same 
excitement  that  throbbed  in  the  streets  below. 
Bunches  of  white  ribbons  hung  from  the  door- 
knobs and  polished  knockers.  Festoons  of  the 
same  color  looped  across  the  street.  Just  over- 
head, so  near  me  that  I  had  not  noticed  it  at  first, 
a  large  placard  was  suspended  over  the  middle  of 
the  street.  It  bore  in  tall  figures  the  inscription 
"19  to  5."  I  accosted  a  bystander,  or  runner-by, 
for  no  one  was  still  an  instant,  and  asked  the  mean- 
ing of  the  numbers. 


48  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"Good  lack !  Are  you  a  stranger?  That  is  our 
majority.    Ours !" 

He  twirled  a  bunch  of  white  ribbons  in  my  face 
by  way  of  explanation  and  then  made  off  towards 
the  scene  of  a  new  excitement.  I  followed  his 
direction  and  began  to  hear  the  cry  "Marmaduke, 
Marmaduke,"  which  was  swelling  farther  down 
the  street.  I  followed  the  crowd  which  was  all 
moving  in  one  direction  now,  and  elbowed  my  way 
along  with  the  others.  Men,  women  and  children 
pressed  eagerly  forward  in  the  direction  of  a  low 
building  with  a  peaked  gable  that  stood  on  the 
corner  of  the  next  street.  Soon  I  fell  into  a  w^alk; 
and  then  we  were  so  jammed  together  that  I  had 
to  fight  my  way  tooth  and  nail  to  gain  a  yard.  I 
looked  over  the  tops  of  people's  heads  to  where  a 
coach  drawn  by  six  white  horses  had  been  brought 
to  a  stand.  A  lady  had  stepped  half  out  of  the 
vehicle  and  was  about  to  address  the  people.  She 
was  a  strong,  dignified  looking  woman  with  angu- 
lar features  and  flashing  eyes.  She  lifted  one  hand 
and  everyone  became  still. 

"Men  of  New  York,"  she  began  in  a  rich  melo- 
dious voice  that  won  its  way  to  my  heart  immedi- 
ately, "on  this  day  of  victory  and  joy,  it  does  my  old 
heart  good  to  see  the  people  alive  to  their  rights. 
iWhen  the  liberty  of  the  citizens  is  at  stake,  who  is 
their  friend?" 

The  crowd  broke  into  a  shout  of  "Marmaduke, 
Marmaduke."     A  woman  who  stood  next  me  in 


THE  BUCCANEER'S  GIFT  49 

the  street  flourished  a  white  flag  and  cried :  "Three 
cheers  for  Lady  Marmaduke,  the  friend  of  the  peo- 
ple !"  The  lady  who  stood  on  the  step  of  the  coach 
caught  the  flag  in  her  hands  and  motioned  for  si- 
lence. 

"Yes,  the  Marmaduke  is  the  friend  of  the  peo- 
ple. But  that  is  not  what  I  meant.  Our  bulwark 
is  the  Earl.  Stand  by  Earl  Richard,  friends.  You 
are  the  strength  of  Yorke.  He  is  your  champion 
against  the  blue."  She  waved  above  her  head  the 
flag  she  had  taken  from  the  woman  and  cried : 
"Three  hearty  cheers  for  the  Earl  of  Bellamont!" 

By  the  time  the  ringing  response  had  died  away 
and  order  was  once  more  restored  the  whole  atti- 
tude of  Lady  Marmaduke  had  changed.  Tears 
stood  in  her  eyes  and  her  voice  trembled  with 
emotion. 

"Dear  people,  when  it  pleased  God  to  take  my 
husband.  He  took  from  you  your  staunchest 
friend.  'Helen,'  he  once  said  to  me,  'if  by  chance 
you  should  be  left  alone,  never  forget  the  people.'  " 
Then  she  grew  brave  again,  and  her  deep  voice 
rang  clear  and  distinct.  "I  shall  do  all  I  can,  but 
— remember — remember  what  I  say :  our  bulwark 
is  Earl  Richard." 

She  sprang  back  into  the  carriage.  The  driver 
struck  out  with  his  lash.  For  a  moment  the  six 
white  horses  reared  and  plunged  till  the  swaying 
crowd  gave  way  in  front.     The  huge  vehicle  lum- 


50  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

bered  forward  over  the  uneven  street,  followed  by 
the  cheering  of  the  people. 

I  turned  into  a  deserted  by-way,  wondering  who 
this  woman  was  and  hoping  to  make  progress 
more  quickly  towards  the  lower  part  of  the  town. 
Even  here  I  met  with  the  same  assertion  of  vic- 
tory. Three  little  bare-legged  urchins  were  bela- 
boring a  fourth  who  was  scarce  able  to  toddle.  He 
stood  on  a  doorstep  warding  off  the  blows  of  his 
assailants  with  a  stick.  The  cause  of  their  attack 
was  the  blue  blouse  he  wore; — blue  was  the  color 
of  the  defeated  party. 

"Hiky  tiky,  you  Jacobite!"  cried  the  three  little 
soldiers  of  the  Earl.  "Come  down  and  fight  fair, 
you  coward." 

I  caught  up  the  nearest  of  the  three  boys  and 
spanked  him  well  for  a  bully;  upon  which  the  other 
two  fled  precipitately  into  the  midst  of  a  duck  pond 
where  they  stood  knee  deep  in  the  slimy  water  and 
dared  me  to  follow  them  at  my  peril, 

'T'm  as  good  an  Earl's  man  as  them,"  cried  the 
defender  of  the  doorstep.  "But  I'll  be  a  Jacobite 
now  for  spite.  Don't  come  near  me,  you  rebel 
brats." 

He  shouldered  his  stick  like  a  musket  and  strut- 
ted ahead,  offering  to  accompany  me  to  the  next 
corner  if  I  was  afraid. 

I  took  the  little  fellow  safely  to  his  mother's 
doorstep  and  then  continued  my  way  through  King 
Street  to  the  Slip,  whence  I  could  see  the  whole 


THE  BUCCANEER'S  GIFT  51 

water  front  and  the  merchant  ships  lying  at  anchor. 
I  had  scarcely  reached  the  battery  by  the  Stadt 
Huys  when  a  crowd  of  people  came  pell  mell  along 
the  square.  They  were  shouting  and  yelling  at  a 
score  of  persons  who  went  before  and  were  pro- 
vided with  brooms  decked  in  the  victorious  white 
ribbons  of  the  Earl's  party.  They  were  sweeping 
the  street  industriously.  As  they  drew  near  I  saw 
that  the  ground  in  front  of  them  was  plentifully 
strewed  with  little  blue  marbles  the  size  of  birds' 
eggs.  The  sweepers  were  thus  in  play  cleansing 
the  town  of  the  blue  taint  of  their  enemies.  They 
drew  near  the  water,  each  vying  with  his  neighbor 
to  be  the  first  to  get  the  marbles  in  front  of  him 
into  the  bay.  Ere  long  they  were  popping  mer- 
rily upon  the  surface.  At  that  moment  a  diversion 
occurred  in  the  form  of  a  charge  by  a  company  of 
marines  from  one  of  the  merchant  ships  in  the  har- 
bor. The  marines  came  up  the  Slip  on  the  run, 
and  in  two  minutes  a  hot  fight  began. 

The  brooms  were  not  bad  weapons  of  defense. 
The  cutlasses  of  the  sailors  got  entangled  in  the 
brushy  ends  and  sometimes  the  weapons  of  the 
sailors  were  jerked  clean  out  of  their  hands. 
Now  and  then  a  stinging  thrust  in  the  face  would 
set  a  man  yelling  with  pain  and  anger.  Mean- 
time the  bystanders  amused  themselves  by  egging 
on  the  combatants  as  if  it  were  a  cock  fight. 

This  sort  of  thing  could  not  last  long.  One  by 
one  the  ends  of  the  brooms  were  lopped  oft.     The 


52  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

sweepers  gave  back  and  at  last  broke  into  flight  just 
as  the  sheriff  and  a  guard  of  six  men  came  to  their 
rehef.  Not  at  all  daunted  by  the  appearance  of  the 
officers  of  the  law,  the  marines  continued  the  attack, 
now  gaining  ground,  now  losing,  but  keeping  to  it 
>vith  a  will. 

My  blood  was  up.  Swords  ringing  and  mine  in 
its  sheath  was  a  craven  plight.  I  was  for  joining 
in  but  did  not  know  which  side  to  join.  Suddenly 
the  sheriff  fell  wounded  and  his  men  turned  tail  to 
run. 

"Cowards,"  I  yelled,  flourishing  my  sword,  "fol- 
low me." 

They  plucked  up  courage  and  did  as  I  bade  them. 
I  led  them  aside  some  twenty  yards  to  the  mouth 
of  a  narrow  lane  where  we  were  protected  on  the 
flanks  by  a  fence  on  one  side  and  a  house  on  the 
other.  Here  the  fray  began  again  with  redoubled 
spirit.  I  had  time  to  notice  that  each  of  the  sailors 
wore  about  his  arm  a  band  of  red  cloth  that  gave 
his  dress  somewhat  the  appearance  of  a  uniform. 
Three  of  them  soon  lay  on  the  ground  by  the 
mouth  of  the  lane,  and  I  doubt  not  that  they  were 
killed,  for  there  seemed  to  be  great  enmity  between 
the  marines  and  the  city  officers.  The  sailors  con- 
tinued to  fight  like  fiends,  yelling  and  cursing  be- 
tween their  blows  like  so  many  madmen.  I  have 
no  doubt  they  were  full  of  drink,  for  they  did  not 
fight  well  together  but  often  turned  on  one  an- 
other, or  hampered  themselves  by  crowding  shoul- 


THE  BUCCANEER'S  GIFT  53 

der  to  shoulder  too  close  to  fight  to  good  advan- 
tage. In  twenty  minutes  we  had  reduced  their 
number  by  half.  The  sobering  effect  of  this  lively 
scrimmage  put  a  little  reason  into  the  heads  of 
those  who  were  still  upon  their  legs.  It  was  now 
their  turn  to  run,  which  they  did  with  a  marvelous 
speed  considering  the  fact  that  they  were  sailors. 

The  battle  at  an  end,  I  wiped  the  blade  of  my 
sword  and  continued  down  the  Slip,  casting  my 
eyes  curiously  upon  the  tradesmen's  signs.  There 
were  but  a  few  names  on  the  street,  though  a  sym- 
bol of  some  sort  stood  over  the  entrance  to  each 
shop.  At  one  place  a  pair  of  scissors  indicated  the 
dock  barber  and  peruke  maker.  A  red  ball  hung  be- 
fore a  vender  of  cheese;  and  an  empty  cask  before 
every  third  or  fourth  door  showed  where  spirits 
was  sold.  I  made  my  w^ay  past  a  long  row  of  petty 
shops  and  small  ordinaries  till  my  eyes  fell  upon 
that  for  which  I  was  looking. 

This  was  a  tall,  pretentious  building  decked  from 
top  to  bottom  in  blue  hangings.  Within  the  am- 
ple doorway  I  could  see  piles  of  boxes,  casks,  bales 
of  cotton,  and  to  the  rear  there  were  many  clerks 
bending  over  huge  account  books,  or  skurrying 
about  with  pots  of  paint  in  their  hands  to  mark  the 
numerous  parcels  for  shipment.  What  made 
this  warehouse  of  more  interest  to  me  than  all  the 
others  was  its  sign  and  the  name  of  its  owner.  It 
read  "KILIAN  VAN  VOLKENBERG— MER- 
CHANT." 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE  JACOBITE  COFFEE-HOUSE 

When  I  recognized  the  name  on  the  front  of 
Van  Volkenberg-'s  warehouse  I  dipped  my  hand 
into  my  pocket  to  make  sure  that  the  silver  buttons 
Captain  Tew  had  given  me  were  safe  and  ready  to 
be  produced  by  way  of  introduction.  I  crossed 
the  street  and  entered  the  open  doorway,  A  cour- 
teous young  clerk  who  desired  to  be  of  service  to 
me  regretted  that  his  master  was  not  on  the  prem- 
ises. 

"Patroon  Van  Volkenberg  went  out  not  long 
ago  with  Colonel  Fletcher,"  he  said.  "You  know 
that  the  town  is  in  such  excitement  that  the  pa- 
troon, who  is  the  chief  merchant  of  the  city  and 
also  a  member  of  the  governor's  council,  has  many 
cares  upon  him.  But  I  am  in  his  confidence  and 
should  be  glad — no,  is  it  a  personal  matter?  I 
am  sorry  that  I  cannot  attend  to  your  business.  I 
should  advise  you  to  return  this  afternoon  if  you 
desire  to  see  him  in  person.  He  will  probably  dine 
with  Colonel  Fletcher  or  perhaps  with  the  gov- 
ernor. You  know  that  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg 
is  one  of  the  most  representative  men  of  the  city. 
I  see  you  are  a  stranger.  Would  you  like  to  look  at 
our  cellars  and  see  our  ships?  There  are  none  equal 
to  them  in  the  whole  province." 

54 


THE  JACOBITE  COFFEE-HOUSE         55 

I  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  but  said  that  I 
wished  to  explore  the  city  and  would  wander  about 
on  the  chance  of  seeing  the  patroon  at  large.  I 
passed  out  into  the  busy  street  and  stood  at  the 
door  of  the  patroon's  warehouse  for  a  moment  in 
hesitation  which  way  to  turn.  A  large  sign  which 
projected  into  the  street  not  far  away  on  my  right 
indicated  the  Leisler  Tavern.  I  turned  that  way, 
intending  to  find  a  suitable  place  to  lodge  until  my 
plans  became  more  settled.  At  the  door,  however, 
I  stopped.  The  room  within  was  noisily  full  of 
people  all  of  whom  wore  white  cockades  and 
badges.  These  decorations  represented  the  Earl's 
party  and  reminded  me  of  the  fact  that  the  hang- 
ings on  Van  Volkenberg's  house  were  blue.  The 
Leisler  Tavern  was  evidently  not  frequented  by  the 
partisans  of  the  patroon.  I  had  better  seek  farther; 
perhaps  I  should  come  upon  an  inn  of  another 
color. 

I  wandered  along,  keeping  a  sharp  lookout  on 
all  sides.  My  attention  was  much  taken  up  with 
the  quaint  little  houses  and  the  curious  sights  of 
this  strange  city.  Before  long,  on  returning  from 
a  near  view  of  the  fort  which  I  had  already  seen  at 
a  distance  from  my  point  of  vantage  on  Long  Isl- 
and, I  ran  suddenly  upon  the  Jacobite  Coffee- 
House.  This  ordinary  was  draped  in  blue,  and  the 
empty  neighborhood  cast  upon  it  the  melancholy 
atmosphere  of  defeat. 

The  large  interior  was  portioned  off  upon  three 


56  PAT  ROOM  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

sides  into  stalls  containing  tables  like  those  I  had 
seen  in  London.  Most  of  the  chairs  at  these  tables 
were  occupied  by  persons  drinking;  but  by  far  the 
greater  number  of  people  present  stood  mug  in 
hand  in  the  open  center  of  the  room.  Upon  my 
entrance  there  was  a  sudden  lull  in  the  conversa- 
tion; then  they  began  to  whisper  among  them- 
selves and  look  at  me.  Every  person  in  the  room 
was  soon  staring  at  me  as  if  I  were  some  public 
curiosity  on  exhibition.  There  was  a  hostile  ex- 
pression in  their  eyes,  too,  that  I  could  not  com- 
prehend. I  wondered  whether,  after  all,  this  was 
really  a  public  ordinary.  Had  I  made  a  mistake 
and  blundered  into  some  private  place  of  meeting? 
On  one  side  of  the  tap-room  in  plain  sight  hung 
the  governor's  license  to  keep  open  house.  No,  I 
had  not  made  a  mistake.  What,  then,  was  the 
meaning  of  this  obvious  turning  of  eyes  in  my 
direction?  How  could  I  account  for  the  hostile 
contempt  they  showed  towards  me,  an  utter 
stranger? 

I  crossed  the  room  to  where  I  saw  a  vacant  chair 
in  one  of  the  stalls.  At  once  two  men  who  were 
also  seated  at  the  table  I  was  moving  towards, 
arose,  making  a  great  parade  of  their  efforts  to 
get  out  of  my  way.  The  laugh  that  followed  this 
treatment  vexed  me  much.  I  called  out  in  an 
ill  temper  to  the  host  to  fetch  me  some  rum  and  not 
to  keep  strangers  waiting. 


THE  JACOBITE  COFFEE-HOUSE         57 

"Have  you  a  room  to  let?"  I  inquired  as  he  set 
my  liquor  down  on  the  table  in  front  of  me. 

"No,"  he  replied  curtly,  turning  on  his  heel,  and 
showing  me  his  back  across  the  room. 

Shortly  the  attention  fell  off  from  me  somewhat 
and  the  inmates  began  to  talk  again.  Kirstoffel, 
as  they  called  the  host,  was  a  merry  fellow.  He 
soon  seemed  to  repent  of  the  rude  way  in  which 
he  had  answered  my  question,  for  he  saw  when  I 
took  out  my  purse  that  I  had  plenty  of  ready 
money.  Taking  advantage  of  a  moment  when  at- 
tention was  diverted  to  the  some  disturbance  in 
the  street,  he  came  across  the  room  to  me  and 
made  a  qualified  apology. 

"Gott,  man,"  he  began.  "Your  demand  was  too 
sudden.  I  have  got  no  rooms  here  to  let  out.  They 
were  all  thrown  into  one  for  that  what-you-call-it 
Jacobite  Club  to  meet  in.     No,  I  have  no  rooms." 

As  he  seemed  to  be  friendly,  I  asked  him  why 
my  entrance  had  been  the  cause  of  so  much  atten- 
tion. He  was  about  to  answer  when  the  people 
who  had  been  temporarily  attracted  to  the  door 
came  pouring  back.  The  tapster  laid  his  finger  on 
his  lips,  shook  his  head  at  me  in  a  warning  sort  of 
w^ay,  and  then  stalked  haughtily  back  to  his  place 
as  if  to  affect  his  customers  with  the  largeness  of 
his  contempt  for  me. 

I  was  all  alert  to  discover  the  clew  to  this  treat- 
ment. As  each  of  several  new  people  entered  I 
was  pointed  out  amid  whispering  and  shaking  of 


58  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

heads  and  threatening  glances.  One  fellow,  a  sail- 
orly looking  man,  cried  out  an  angry  oath  and 
took  a  step  or  two  in  my  direction.  A  comrade 
caught  him  by  the  arm  and  whispered  something 
in  his  ear.  At  that  the  fellow  gave  up  his  notion, 
whatever  it  was,  and  soon  their  interest  in  me 
waned. 

Everyone  I  had  seen  in  the  room  so  far  wore 
somewhere  on  his  coat  or  hat  a  bit  of  the  blue 
ribbon  that  stood  for  the  Merchants'  party.  It  was 
not  long,  however,  before  I  noticed  in  one  corner 
a  slight,  alert  man  who  looked  as  if  he  might  be  a 
native  of  my  own  country.  Furthermore,  so  far  as 
I  could  see,  he  wore  none  of  the  blue  ribbon.  I 
changed  my  seat  so  as  to  come  near  him.  He  was 
an  affable  sort  of  fellow  and  spoke  to  me  at  once. 

"You  and  I  seem  to  be  on  the  under  side,"  he 
began.     "I  wonder  you  don't  wear  white." 

I  told  him,  as  I  had  told  the  ferryman,  that  I  was 
a  stranger  in  the  city  and  that  I  had  not  yet  learned 
the  difference  between  the  parties.  He  at  once 
began  a  long  explanation,  telling  me  all  about  the 
Earl  of  Bellamont  and  the  People's  party  whose 
color  was  white,  and  of  the  Merchants'  party, 
whose  color  was  blue.  Thus  begun,  I  pressed  the 
conversation  further  to  learn  why  I  had  been  treat- 
ed with  so  much  attention  when  I  came  into  the 
coffee-house.  He  did  not  know.  Had  I  worn 
white  or  no  color  at  all,  as  he  did,  they  would  have 
let  me  alone.    There  must  be  something  more  than 


THE  JACOBITE  COFFEE-HOUSE         59 

that.  Did  I  not  know?  "How  could  I?"  I  said, 
in  answer  to  his  question,  for  I  had  been  in  New 
York  scarce  above  two  hours.  All  this  mystery 
was  very  annoying  to  me,  for  every  few  moments 
I  was  pointed  out  and  showed  off  to  some  new 
comer  like  an  anim_al  in  a  cage. 

In  the  meantime  my  chance  acquaintance,  who 
informed  me  that  his  name  was  Pierre,  drank  con- 
tinually and  was  in  the  merrier  mood  therefor. 
"I  hate  these  Dutchmen,"  he  said,  "with  their 
dozen  pairs  of  breeches  Hke  barrels  round  their 
middles.  And  the  women,  ha !  I've  seen  a  very 
bean-pole  swell  out  below  Hke  a  double  jib." 

This  reference  to  the  Dutchmen  reminded  me  of 
my  desire  to  see  the  patroon,  and  I  asked  Pierre 
if  he  knew  Van  Volkenberg. 

"Know  him?  I'd  know  his  bones  in  a  button 
shop.  You  couldn't  polish  the  crabbedness  out  of 
him.  I  could  tell  you  where  he  is  at  this  very 
moment  only — I  declare,  my  head  is  getting  fud- 
dled. I  must  have  a  gill  of  rum  to  settle  this  weak 
beer  with."  In  a  moment  he  came  back  from  the 
tap-rail,  empty-handed  and  shaking  his  head  dis- 
consolately. "He  will  not  trust  me,  not  another 
stuyver.    I'm  plum  fuddled.    Where  was  I?" 

I  suggested  Van  Volkenberg,  but  he  did  not 
seem  to  know  the  name.  I  handed  him  half  a 
crown,  but  he  would  not  take  it. 

"No,  sir;  I'm  not  a  beggar,"  he  said  with  a  lit- 
tle dignity.     "That  would  hurt  me  to  the  heart. 


60  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

and  what  would  Annetje  say?"  Then  he  added 
cunningly:  "You  are  a  man  of  influence.  If  you 
would  speak  to  him  and  ask  him  to  extend  my 
score  on  credit  a  little  he  would  do  it  out  of  re- 
spect to  you." 

A  moment  later  Pierre  was  sipping  rum  to  his 
satisfaction-  and  I  was  secretly  a  shilling  out  to  the 
landlord. 

"Where  was  I?"  continued  Pierre,  whose  mem- 
ory was  improving  now  that  I  had  got  him  some 
liquor  without  ofifending  his  dignity  with  money. 
"Where  was  I?  Oh,  yes,  Van  Volkenberg.  He  is 
in  the  room  above  this  one — president  of  the  Ja- 
cobite Club.  If  you  wait  here  you  will  see  him. 
[They  always  come  in  for  a  sup  all  worn  out  and  dry 
with  thinking." 

Pierre  soon  fell  asleep  and  I  awaited  the  appear- 
ance of  the  patroon.  In  a  short  space  of  time  I 
was  again  quite  out  of  the  consideration  of  every 
person  in  the  room.  They  talked  in  low  tones  as 
people  will  who  have  not  the  honorable  sense  of 
success  to  be  noisy  over.  They  no  longer  paid  any 
heed  to  me,  not  even  when  further  additions  were 
made  to  their  number. 

I  kept  my  ears  open  and  I  soon  learned  from 
the  drift  of  conversation  what  was  the  present  state 
of  politics  in  New  York.  The  recently  defeated 
Merchants'  party  had  been  in  power  for  many 
years;  in  fact,  ever  since  the  trial  and  execu- 
tion  of  the   leader,  Jacob   Leisler.      This  party's 


THE  JACOBITE  COFFEE-HOUSE         61 

grip  on  affairs  had,  however,  been  steadily  failing- 
ever  since  and  it  was  quite  loosened  by  the  arrival 
of  a  new  governor.  This  governor  was  the  Earl  of 
Bellamont.  Upon  his  arrival  in  New  York  he  had 
at  once  espoused  the  cause  of  the  Popular  party, 
as  the  adherents  of  Leisler  were  called.  He  made 
it  his  especial  duty  to  enforce  the  Acts  of  Trade 
and  to  put  down  the  illegal  traffic  with  the  buc- 
caneers. This  unlawful  trade  was  the  chief  bone  of 
contention  between  the  two  parties.  To  the  Mer- 
chants' party  belonged  all  the  great  tradesmen  of 
the  city,  hardly  one  of  whom  had  not  in  times  past, 
or  was  not  at  that  very  moment  engaged  in  the 
profitable  but  unlawful  exchange  of  smuggled 
goods.  It  was  to  continue  this  trade  in  defiance  of 
the  law  that  they  stood  together  against  the  Earl, 
In  the  recent  election  they  had  been  overthrown 
by  a  large  majority.  Their  defeat  was  due  mainly 
to  the  Frenchmen,  which  portion  of  the  popula- 
tion of  New  York  was  then  quite  under  the  con- 
trol of  Lady  Marmaduke.  She  was  the  lady  I  had 
already  seen  addressing  the  people  from  the  step 
of  her  coach. 

While  I  was  gathering  the  above  information 
piecemeal  from  the  subdued  conversation  about  me 
in  the  coffee-room,  my  acquaintance,  Pierre,  had 
roused  himself  occasionally,  swallowed  another 
draught  of  rum,  and  then  relapsed  into  sleepy  un- 
consciousness. The  group  in  the  room  was  con- 
tinually changing,  but  the  people  composing  it  had 


62  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

ceased  to  point  me  out  as  an  object  of  interest. 
Two  or  three  men  had  latterly  come  in  who  wore 
upon  their  arms  a  band  of  red  cloth  like  what  I 
had  seen  on  the  sailors  I  had  fought  against  in 
company  with  the  sheriff's  men.  But  these  fellows 
took  no  notice  of  me,  nor  did  I  recognize  them  as 
belonging  to  the  band  we  had  fought  with. 

Before  long  a  sudden  lull  in  the  conversation 
greeted  the  appearance  of  two  men.  Heretofore  I 
had  examined  the  face  of  every  visitor  as  he  came 
in,  wondering  if  he  were  Van  Volkenberg.  I  now 
scanned  these  two  with  like  attention.  The  older 
looking  of  the  two  was  a  large  man,  powerful  but 
spare  in  build,  with  a  sharp  passionate  eye.  He  re- 
turned cordially  the  numerous  greetings  with  which 
he  was  welcomed.  Then,  for  everyone  in  the  room 
stood  silent  as  if  in  expectation  of  a  speech,  he 
struck  his  ebony  cane  with  decision  on  the  floor 
and  began  to  speak. 

"Friends,  we  have  suffered  a  severe  defeat  and 
to-day  the  Assembly  goes  into  session  that  will  un- 
make our  laws.  But  the  race  is  not  to  the  swift  nor 
the  battle  to  the  strong.     We  are  not  yet  dead. 

Power  shall  return  to  us.     Hush "     He  raised 

his  cane  and  made  a  motion  to  cut  short  a  slight 
attempt  to  cheer.  "Our  enemies  have  triumphed 
through  the  vote  of  the  Frenchmen.  But  you  must 
not  let  this  turn  you  against  them.  They  are  led 
by  the  black  Lady  Marmaduke.  We  must  bring 
them  back  to  our  support.     They  are  willing  to 


THE  JACOBITE  COFFEE-HOUSE         63. 

come,  but  we  must  not  drive  them  sharply.  There 
is  one  thing  I  have  to  tell  you  that  will  make  you 
glad  at  heart.  To-day  I  have  been  at  the  govern- 
or's council  board.  He  is  at  heart  our  friend.  To 
be  sure,  he  has  restored  the  confiscated  property  to 
the  family  of  the  traitor  Leisler.  That  strikes  home 
against  us,  but  he  could  not  help  himself.  The 
attainder  was  removed  in  England  and  he  was 
bound  to  carry  it  out  whether  he  liked  to  do  so  or 
not.  This  victory  has  been  won  in  his  name,  but  it 
is  not  of  his  heart.  Do  not  the  two  traitors  still 
lie  at  the  foot  of  the  gallows?" 

A  sullen  murmur  of  dissatisfaction  followed  this 
appeal.  "Ay,  they  have  lain  there  these  eight 
years,"  cried  one.  "May  they  rot  in  their  graves 
forever,"  said  another.  For  a  moment  the  air  was 
full  of  sharp,  savage  curses  directed  against  the 
memory  of  the  two  leaders  of  the  people. 

"And  now,"  continued  the  speaker,  as  KirstofTel 
handed  him  a  cup,  "let  us  drink  to  the  health  of  our 
stout  friend,  Colonel  Benjamin  Fletcher." 

Fletcher!  I  remembered  that  name.  He  was 
the  person  who  had  sent  to  Captain  Tew  the  but- 
tons that  I  now  had  in  my  pocket.  The  toast  was 
drunk  enthusiastically.  Then  someone  sprang 
upon  a  chair  and  began  to  beat  time;  the  company 
followed  his  example  and  soon  they  were  all  sing- 
ing this  song  which  they  accompanied  boisterously 
with  the  jingle  of  mugs  and  the  clatter  of  feet : 


64  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"Hi!    Ho!    Kirstoffel's  brew, 

Gi'  good  den  to  Kilian's  crew; 

Klink  the  can, 

Let  every  man 

Drink  to  Van  Volkenberg." 

At  the  last  word  the  tall  speaker  bowed  right  and 
left,  whereby  I  knew  he  was  the  patroon. 

I  felt  in  my  pocket  for  the  silver  buttons  and, 
taking  one  of  them  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand  with 
my  fingers  closed  over  so  as  to  conceal  it  till  the 
proper  moment,  I  rose  to  approach  the  patroon. 
This  act  drew  all  eyes  upon  me.  There  was  the 
same  ominous  silence  as  before,  accompanied  now, 
however,  with  ten  times  the  contempt  and  anger 
shown  at  my  first  entrance.  The  ill  feeling  against 
me  was  so  evident  and,  so  far  as  I  knew,  so  without 
cause,  that  I  was  fairly  nonplussed.  No  one  spoke. 
The  only  sounds  were  the  ticking  of  the  tall  clock 
in  the  corner  and  a  few  taps  of  Van  Volkenberg's 
cane  upon  the  floor.  He  likewise  seemed  to  share 
the  general  resentment  against  me. 

"Mynher,"  said  I,  as  yet  holding  the  button  in 
my  hand.     'T  came  to  ask " 

"Ask  nothing  of  me,  villain." 

"Ay,  he  is  a  villain,"  chorused  several  voices. 

"Mynher,"  I  began  again,  astonished  at  this  re- 
ception from  a  perfect  stranger. 

"Not  a  word,  wretch,  not  a  word  to  me.  I  have 
no  dealings  with  vagabonds,  scum  of  the  streets. 
If  you  have  anything  to  say,  go  talk  to  my  dogs. 
Zounds!    Away!    Out  of  my  sight!" 


THE  JACOBITE  COFFEE-HOUSE         65 

I  was  about  to  expostulate,  having  no  idea  what- 
ever how  to  account  for  this  sudden  burst  of  anger, 
but  he  raised  his  cane  to  strike  me.  Then  I  noticed 
a  narrow  band  of  red  cloth  about  his  left  arm  just 
beyond  the  elbow. 

"Hush,  Kilian,"  said  the  companion  who  had  en- 
tered with  him,     *'Do  not  anger  yourself." 

"Pish!    May  I  not  strike  a  dog?" 

"  'Tis  not  for  him  but  for  yourself.  Beware, 
Kilian." 

The  patroon  was  visibly  affected  by  this  rejoin- 
der and  made  an  effort  to  control  himself. 

"You  say  you  don't  understand  what  I  mean?" 
he  continued  in  disdain,  for  he  had  given  me  a 
chance  to  profess  myself  ignorant  of  offense.  "Have 
you  not  stood  against  my  men?  Have  you  not 
drawn  your  sword  against  the  Red  Band?  Bah, 
dog!  You  shall  know  what  it  is  to  kill  the  men 
of  the  Red  Band.  You  shall  hang  for  this  if  there 
is  a  law  left  in  the  province." 

He  had  begun  this  speech  with  a  measure  of 
self-control.  But  as  the  words  followed  one  upon 
another,  he  spoke  quicker  and  quicker,  and  with 
more  and  more  anger,  till  he  had  worked  himself 
to  such  a  height  of  passion  that  his  friend  interfered 
a  second  time. 

"Be  careful,  Kilian.  These  are  grave  times  and 
we  must  be  on  our  guard.  You  know  your  fail- 
ing.    What  if  you  should  make  some "     He 

spoke  the  rest  so  low  that  I  could  not  hear  it.     It 


66  PAT  ROOM  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

had  the  effect,  however,  of  calming  the  patroon. 
*'Hear  the  man,"  continued  his  friend.  "Hear  what 
he  has  to  say." 

"Mynher  Van  Volkenberg,"  I  explained,  "if  the 
men  I  fought  with  on  the  Slip  this  morning  were 
your  men,  I  can  only  say  that  we  gave  and  took 
fair  blows.  Half  a  score  of  men  fighting  two  or 
three  or  four  is  what  no  man  of  honor  will  stand 
iby  and  see  unstirred.  I  fought  fair  and  I  confess 
mo  crime.  I  should  do  the  same  against  the  very 
troops  of  the  Earl." 

"Damn  the  Earl !"  burst  out  the  patroon. 

He  shook  and  trembled  with  rage.  This  time 
there  was  no  holding  him  back.  He  stormed  up 
and  down  the  room,  cursing  me,  and  the  Earl,  and 
even  his  companion,  for  trying  to  quiet  him.  What 
had  been  the  outcome  of  our  altercation  but  for 
an  accident  I  do  not  know.  Just  at  that  moment 
Pierre,  who  had  been  sleeping  quietly  on  my  rum 
all  this  while,  roused  himself  and  stumbled  to  his 
feet.  When  I  had  first  spoken  to  him  a  short  time 
before,  he  was  merrily  drunk;  by  now  he  had  swal- 
lowed himself  into  a  royal  state  for  quarreling. 

"Hi,  my  duck!"  he  hiccoughed,  as  he  lurched 
across  the  room.    "At  it  again,  eh?" 

The  room  was  dumb  at  this  sudden  outbreak 
from  an  unexpected  quarter.  Pierre  drew  upon 
him  the  attention  of  us  all  except  the  man  who  had 
entered  with  the  patroon.     His  eyes  were  fixed 


THE  JACOBITE  COFFEE-HOUSE         67 

upon  Van  Volkenberg,  his  hand  was  laid  upon  the 
patroon's  arm. 

"Come  with  me,  Kilian,"  he  said  in  a  voice  so 
low  that  few  heard  it.  "You  are  wrought  up  to- 
day. You  cannot  trust  yourself.  Come  home 
with  me.  Remember  how  much  depends  upon 
your  coolness." 

"Old  man,"  Pierre  cried  as  he  tottered  indirectly 
out  of  the  corner  where  he  had  been  asleep.  "You 
will  set  your  dogs  on  me,  will  you?" 

There  w^as  almost  no  sound  from  anyone.  Only 
the  slow  tick  of  the  clock  and  the  sand  crunching 
beneath  Pierre's  feet.  Van  Volkenberg  trembled 
with  fury,  but  was  unable  to  speak.  His  compan- 
ion tried  in  vain  to  drag  him  from  the  room.  Pierre 
stopped  two  steps  in  front  of  them. 

"Take  that,"  he  cried  savagely,  emptying  a  glass 
of  rum  on  the  patroon's  waistcoat.  Then,  waving 
his  arms  drunkenly,  he  began  to  sing: 

"Klink  the  can, 
Let  every   man — 
Down  with  Van  Volkenberg." 

In  the  uproar  that  followed  I  was  aware  of  but 
two  facts.  The  patroon  was  dragged  off  by  his 
companion  through  one  door,  and  Pierre  by  the 
crowd  through  another.  In  the  midst  of  the  push- 
ing and  shoving  about  the  street  door  someone 
plucked  my  elbow.  It  was  Kirstoffel,  the  host, 
with  his  finger  to  his  lips. 


68  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"His  offense  is  ducking,"  he  said,  jerking  his 
thumb  over  his  shoulder  towards  Pierre.  "But  you. 
Gott,  man!  You've  killed  three  of  the  patroon's 
best  men.     I  would  not  be  in  your  shoes  for  a 

month's  brew.     You  will  be  up  for  ."     He 

pointed  significantly,  first  at  his  neck  and  then  at 
a  beam  over  head.  "Take  my  advice.  Seek  you 
the  French  dominie.  He  has  got  a  great  hold 
On  Lady  Marmaduke  as  well  as  the  governor.  But 
don't  stand  still  on  your  legs  or  you  will  hang 
fast  by  your  neck." 

The  fact  that  I  was  in  unusual  danger  on  account 
of  my  part  in  the  brawl  of  the  morning  came  home 
to  me  now  for  the  first  time.  I  resolved  to  take 
Kirstoffel's  advice  without  delay,  feeling  keenly  the 
danger  of  my  situation.  I  inquired  where  the  house 
of  the  Huguenot  pastor  was  and  then  asked  the 
name  of  the  person  who  had  been  so  eager  to 
restrain  the  patroon's  wrath. 

"That?  That  was  Colonel  Fletcher,  the  gov- 
ernor of  the  province  before  this  one  came  to  the 
fort." 

It  was  a  strange  coincidence  that  I  should  be 
thus  thrown  against  the  only  two  men  in  New 
York  from  whom  I  had  expected  any  help.  All 
this  time  I  still  held  the  silver  button  clasped  in 
my  hand.  I  put  it  back  into  my  pocket  and  set 
out  along  the  street  in  search  of  the  minister  who 
I  hoped  would  be  able  to  assist  me  out  of  my 
difficult  situation. 


CHAPTER  VI 

AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  EARL 

The  French  pastor  met  me  at  his  door  with  a 
cordial  welcome.  I  laid  my  case  before  him  with- 
out reservation,  teUing  him  how  I  had  joined  in 
with  the  weaker  party  in  the  street  attack  that 
morning,  and  how  I  had  encountered  Van  Volken- 
berg  in  the  tavern. 

"It  is  a  bad  business,"  he  said.  *T  wish  it  had 
not  happened.  What  can  be  done?  Let  me  see. 
What  can  be  done?"  He  was  thoughtful  for  a  few 
moments.  "We  must  go  to  the  Earl.  He  is  a  fine 
gentleman  and  a  kind  man.  He  sets  great  value  on 
the  city  of^cers.  Yes,  he  will  do  what  he  can  for 
you.    You  say  that  some  of  the  men  were  killed?" 

"I  was  told  as  much  by  the  tavern  keeper,  and, 
in  truth,  I  guess  there  were.  It  was  very  stirring 
for  a  time.    I  think  the  sheriff  was  also  killed." 

"It's  a  bad  business,  as  I  said.  Van  Volkenberg 
and  his  Red  Band  will  ruin  the  city  yet.  I  must 
speak  of  your  case  to  Lady  Marmaduke  as  well 
as  to  the  governor.  She  is  very  popular  with  the 
people  and  stands  as  leader  of  our  countrymen  here, 
for  all  she  is  an  Englishwoman." 

"I  have  already  seen  her,"  said  I.  "And  I  heard 
them  speak  of  her  at  the  coffee-house  as  the  black 
Lady  Marmaduke." 

69 


70       p:atroon  van  volkenberg 

The  minister  smiled.  "There  are  two  meanings 
to  that.  She  has  black  eyes  and  a  dark  skin; 
and  Lady  Marmaduke  is  a  black  enemy  to  the 
patroon  and  his  band  of  soldiers.  Ay,  she's  the 
black  lady  sure  enough.  But  what  was  your  mes- 
sage to  the  patroon  that  he  cut  short  before  you 
had  the  chance  to  deliver  it?" 

This  question  reminded  me  that  I  should  be 
thinking  of  something  else  besides  my  own  selfish 
needs. 

"I  had  hoped  to  inquire  of  him  some  way  to  find 
my  sister." 

"Your  sister?" 

"Yes.  I  have  some  hope  that  she  is  in  the 
province  of  New  York." 

"How  comes  it  that  you  are  here  with  so  little 
knowledge  of  her  whereabouts?" 

I  gave  him  an  account  of  the  last  sad  year  of 
our  life;  our  meeting  in  Bristol;  our  second  separa- 
tion on  the  high  seas;  and,  last  of  all,  the  year  I  had 
spent  in  Maryland.  "Thus  it  was,"  I  ended,  "that 
I  expected  to  find  my  sister  waiting  for  me  when 
I  got  to  New  York." 

"Ay,  take  cheer.  She  is  doubtless  somewhere 
near  at  hand.  Last  July,  you  say?  I  was  in  Al- 
bany then.  I  have  forgotten  it;  what  did  you  say^ 
your  surname  is?" 

"Le  Bourse." 

He  repeated  the  name  over  again  half  aloud. 
"I  have  heard  that  name  somewhere,"  he  mut- 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  EARL      71 

tered.  ''Yet  I  was  in  Albany  this  time  twelve- 
montn."  He  was  silent  several  minutes  longer, 
and  then  he  broke  out  with,  "Where  have  I  heard 
that  name?" 

How  I  hoped  he  would  remember!  I  durst  not 
speak  to  him  lest  I  disturb  his  thoughts.  Sud- 
denly he  fixed  his  eye  on  me  and,  while  he  gazed, 
a  look  of  recognition  overspread  his  features. 

"I  have  heard  it,"  he  said,  his  eyes  opening  wider 
and  wider;  "and  I  have  seen — can  I  be  mistaken?" 
He  took  both  my  hands  in  his  and  I  could  feel  that 
they  were  all  of  a  tremble  with  emotion.  "It  is 
you  I  have  seen.  Don't  you  mind  the  brook  by  La 
Rochelle,  and  how  we  cast  lots  years  agone,  and 
how  one  fell  to  you  and  one  to  my  brother?  I 
recall  you  plain  now.  I  looked  back  and  saw  my 
brother  fall.  The  Lord  giveth  and  He  taketh  away, 
blessed  be  His  name.  But  you  stood  firm  and 
the  rest  of  us  were  saved.  How  many  times,  my 
lad,  an  old  man's  prayers  have  gone  up  to  the 
Throne  that  you  might  be  safe." 

We  clasped  hands  in  silence;  my  feelings  were 
too  deep  for  words.  The  change  brought  about  by 
the  lapse  of  ten  years  in  even  the  happiest  life 
is  stuff  for  sorrow.  What  must  I  have  felt  after 
ten  unhappy  years  of  wandering  and  fight,  of  sor- 
row and  disappointment,  year  in  and  year  out? 
The  minister's  voice  was  the  first  to  break  a  long 
silence. 


72  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"Let  us  go  to  the  Earl,"  he  said,  but  he  was 
not  yet  master  of  his  voice. 

As  we  made  our  way  to  the  fort  through  crooked 
narrow  streets  my  companion  was  at  great  pains 
to  enlighten  me  still  further  in  regard  to  the  con- 
dition of  affairs  in  the  city. 

"Friend  Michael,  you  must  know  somewhat,  so 
that  you  can  talk  well  to  his  Excellency.  He  and 
Patroon  Van  Volkenberg  are  at  swords  points  day 
and  night.  I  count  much  on  that  as  telling  in 
your  favor.  But  his  hands  are  half  tied  in  spite 
of  all.  I  wonder  that  you  can  look  so  calm,  for 
I  must  say  plain  the  patroon  is  a  powerful  man 
and  clever  at  the  law-twisting.  Kirstoffel  told  you 
what  it  would  be,  but  I  hope  he  cannot  bring  it 
to  that.  He's  a  cruel  man,  a  cruel  man.  What 
little  Pierre  said  about  the  dogs — that  was  some 
of  it.  Poor  little  Pierre !  He  had  gone  up  to 
see  his  sweetheart,  Annetje  Dorn,  at  the  manor- 
house.  But  the  patroon  set  the  dogs  on  him  and 
now  he  will  have  to  be  ducked.  But  it  is  your  case 
that  worries  me." 

We  had  nearly  reached  the  fort.  A  large  green 
sloped  gently  up  to  the  walls.  Near  the  entrance 
a  dozen  soldiers  in  the  gray  uniform  of  the  Gov- 
ernor's Guards  loitered  about  a  public  pump. 

"Do  you  see  yon  dipping  trough  of  stone?"  quer- 
ied my  companion,  pointing  towards  the  pump. 
"When  you  get  close  you  can  see  the  Marmaduke 
arms  cut  in  the  side.     That  is  only  one  of  the 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  EARL       73 

things  she  has  done  to  make  the  people  throw 
up  their  hats  when  she  comes  along.  We  used 
to  get  the  water  we  drink  from  the  Tea- Water 
pump,  which  is  more  than  a  mile  beyond  the  city- 
wall  to  the  north.  All  the  wells  in  this  part  of  town 
were  brackish  till  this  one  was  dug  and  presented 
to  the  city  free  of  cost  by  Lady  Marmaduke.  Ask 
anyone — yon  tradesman  in  his  shop  door,  for  in- 
stance— who  is  Lady  Marmaduke.  Like  as  not 
he  will  answer  that  she  dug  the  Marmaduke  well. 
She  has  been  a  great  benefactor  to  the  city  in 
other  ways  than  that,  and  there  is  a  warm  spot  for 
her  in  everybody's  heart." 

Thus,  doing  his  best  to  keep  my  mind  off  the 
subject  of  my  suspense,  the  minister  led  me  through 
the  great  stone  gateway  into  the  fort.  The  build- 
ings were  ranged  along  the  four  sides  of  an  open 
court  which  we  crossed  to  reach  the  governor's 
mansion.  We  entered  this  through  a  wide  door 
and  were  shown  into  a  spacious  reception  room, 
from  the  end  of  which  the  Earl  came  forward  to 
greet  us.  He  was  a  tall  man  of  much  dignity, 
with  a  calm,  benevolent  face  and  bright,  under- 
standing eyes.  He  welcomed  my  friend  cordially 
and  then  addressed  me  in  a  gracious  tone. 

"Monsieur  Le  Bourse,  I  have  already  heard  of 
you.  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg  has  killed  one  of 
my  best  officers,  and  he  says  that  you  did  the  same 
by  three  of  the  sailors  of  the  Red  Band.  But  he' 
smiled  when  he  said  it  and  added,  *  If  you  will  not 


74  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

prosecute,  neither  shall  I.'  The  patroon  does  not 
often  smile  in  a  case  like  this,  but  he  smiled  to-dajr 
and  you  are  to  be  congratulated." 

The  three  of  us  passed  words  of  mutual  congrat- 
ulation at  my  fortunate  escape  from  the  evil  eye  of 
the  patroon.  Then  my  story  and  Ruth's  was  re- 
lated to  the  governor. 

"And  you  say  it  was  your  intention  to  communi- 
cate with  mynheer  for  assistance?" 

"Yes.  I  had  an  introduction  to  him  in  the 
shape  of  a  button  given  me  by  Captain  Thomas 
Tew." 

Bellamont  started  perceptibly  and  his  face 
clouded  when  I  mentioned  the  name  of  the  bucca- 
neer. I  stopped  short  in  my  talk.  More  than 
once  during  the  account  of  my  adventures  my 
voice  had  faltered  when  I  came  to  speak  of  my  sis- 
ter; hence  it  was  that  the  governor  misunderstood 
my  hesitation. 

"Do  not  haste,  my  friend.  You  have  my  kindli- 
est sympathy  in  your  distress.  Take  your  time 
and  recover  yourself." 

"It  was  not  for  that  I  stopped,  your  Excellency." 

His  eyebrows  lifted.     "No?    What  then?" 

"I  am  a  plain  spoken  man,  Earl  Bellamont;  shall 
I  have  free  leave  to  speak  what  I  feel?  Your 
face  showed  disfavor  when  I  mentioned  the  name 
of  Captain  Tew.  I  am  ignorant  of  what  he  may 
be  to  you,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  compromise  one 
who  has  played  the  part  of  a  good  friend  to  me." 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  EARL       75 

I  stopped.  There  was  a  look  of  amusement  in 
the  Earl's  eyes  as  he  put  out  his  hand  and  touched 
a  bell.  A  servant  appeared  who,  at  the  governor's 
bidding,  fetched  a  tray  with  wine  and  glasses  for 
three  upon  it,  and  a  dish  of  salt.  I  could  hardly 
contain  my  surprise  at  this  unusual  proceeding, 
nor  did  I  understand  its  import  till  the  Earl,  after 
moistening  his  finger  in  the  wine,  placed  it  on  the 
salt  and  then  touched  his  tongue. 

*'It  is  an  old  custom  we  have  in  Yorke,"  he 
said,  smiling. 

"You  honor  me  more  than  I  deserve,"  I  cried  in 
admiration  at  the  way  he  had  put  it  out  of  his 
power  to  use  these  communications  to  his  own 
advantage.  For  the  observation  of  this  custom 
meant  that  we  were  friends  and  guests,  and  that 
our  talk  would  be  held  in  the  strictest  confidence. 

"I  think  you  will  trust  me  now,"  he  continued 
gravely.  "If  I  read  your  face  aright.  Monsieur  Le 
Bourse,  you  are  the  kind  of  man  we  need  in  these 
troublesome  times.  Now — if  you  w^ill  be  kind 
enough  to  continue  your  narrative." 

I  told  him  all  I  knew,  holding  back  nothing,  for  I 
had  full  faith  in  the  man  whom  I  already  looked 
upon  as  a  sort  of  patron.  He  listened  with  grave 
attention,  now  and  then  expressing  his  hearty  sym- 
pathy in  a  way  that  was  at  once  delicate  and  re- 
assuring. 

"Here  is  to  the  safety  of  Mistress  Ruth,"  he  said 
lifting  a  glass. 


76  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"Safety !"  I  cried.    "You  do  not  doubt?" 

"Not  in  the  least.  Drink.  To  a  quick  search 
and  a  happy." 

He  rang  the  bell  again  and  bade  the  servant 
call  Bromm,  the  aged  bell-ringer  who  lived  by  the 
church  in  a  corner  of  the  fort.  In  a  few  minutes 
a  slow  deliberate  tap,  tap  resounded  upon  the 
paved  courtyard  without;  next  the  old  man  entered, 
leaning  upon  his  staff,  which  he  grasped  high  up 
at  the  level  of  his  head.  The  Earl  advanced  to 
meet  him  and  took  the  faithful  old  man  by  the 
hand. 

"How  is  it  with  you  to-day,  my  Bromm;  and 
how  is  the  Juvrouw  Betchen?" 

"Please  your  Excellency,  she  is  well,  considering 
her  age.    But  she  was  a  fair  wench  in  her  day." 

Then  he  caught  sight  of  me.  It  took  a  moment 
of  dehberation  for  him  to  adjust  himself  to  the 
unexpected  surprise  of  a  stranger  in  the  room.  He 
made  me  a  low  bow,  slipping  his  hand  down  the 
body  of  his  staff  as  he  did  so. 

"Pardon  me,  sir,  but  I  am  turned  eighty  and 
I  did  not  see  you  at  first.  No  ofTense  I  hope.  My 
sister  always  says — you  don't  know  the  girl,  do  you? 
Of  course  not,  but  she  was  a  wench  in  her  day 
though  she's  not  so  comely  now.  There  is  a  sad 
look  in  her  face  for  her  man — him  that  was  to  be 
her  man  went  to  sea  and  she's  waiting  for  him  yet. 
.That's  forty  years  ago  and  the  girl's  turned  sixty- 


'AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  EARL       77 

four  last  Niewe  Jarre.  Oh,  our  family  has  mem- 
ory." 

"It  is  your  memory  I  want  to  test,  Bromm," 
said  the  governor.  "We  have  good  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  within  a  twelvemonth  Ruth  Le  Bourse 
was  bound  into  service  before  the  Stadt  Huys.  If 
such  be  the  case  you  may  have  cried  the  procla- 
mation for  her  sale.  Have  you  any  recollection 
of  it?  Now  make  an  effort  to  remember.  The 
name  is  Ruth  Le  Bourse." 

The  old  man  planted  his  staff  firmly  on  the  floor 
and  grasped  it  with  both  his  hands  while  he 
thought.  His  memory  seemed  to  give  him  no  clue. 
He  knit  his  brows,  changed  the  position  of  his 
hands  upon  his  staff,  hemmed  and  hawed.  But  at 
last,  just  as  he  seemed  about  to  give  it  up,  his 
face  brightened. 

"Ay,  Sir  Richard,  I  have  it.  My  cousin's  second 
wife's  sister's  girl's  name  was  Ruth.  I  knew  we 
had  a  Ruth  in  the  family.  Ah,  we  have  memory, 
we  Bromms." 

I  sighed  in  disappointment.  The  Earl  suppressed 
a  smile  and  led  the  crier's  vagrant  thoughts  back 
and  forth  among  his  confused  recollections  of  the 
past  year.  But  to  no  avail.  He  had  not  the 
slightest  information  to  give  us  and  we  were  no 
better  off  than  before. 

"Well,"  the  Earl  said  at  last.  "I  shall  request 
you  to  be  on  hand  at  two  o'clock  this  afternoon, 
Bromm,  to  make  public  proclamation  in  the  mar- 


78  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

ket  place.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  someone  will 
have  heard  of  her  and  can  give  me  information 
that  we  are  desirous  to  obtain," 

This  broke  up  our  meeting.  There  was  now  noth- 
ing left  to  do  till  the  advantage  of  the  proclamation 
had  been  put  to  the  test.  As  we  moved  toward  the 
door  of  the  reception  hall,  the  minister  walked 
first  with  Bromm.  The  governor  laid  his  hand 
upon  my  arm  and  quietly  motioned  me  to  step  back 
into  the  room  with  him. 

"Monsieur  Le  Bourse,  we  have  gone  so  far  in 
our  mutual  confidence  that  it  may  be  well  to  extend 
it  a  little  farther.  There  were  words  of  high  con- 
tention in  the  council  meeting  to-day  between  me 
and  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg.  What  I  now  im- 
part to  you  is  strictly  entre  nous,  as  you  French- 
men say.  I  trust  the  patroon's  word  no  more  than 
— at  least  I  do  not  understand  this  sudden  spleen 
of  friendliness.  You  say  that  Colonel  Fletcher  was 
trying  to  soothe  him  in  the  coffee-house?" 

"Yes,  continually." 

"Well,  you  will  observe  when  you  come  to  know 
more  of  our  poHtics  that  that  is  unhke  Fletcher 
too.  He  is  a  savage  cur.  I  do  not  trust  either 
of  them.  I  should  be  more  at  my  ease  to  have  the 
men  of  the  Red  Band  baying  at  my  window  like 
hounds  than  to  have  them  feed  me  with  words  of 
honey.  Keep  your  own  counsel,  my  friend.  Stay 
out  of  the  narrow  streets  after  nightfall.  I  should 
advise  you  to  take  lodgings  at  the  Ferry-House. 


'AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  EARL       79 

It  is  a  quiet  place  of  entertainment,  modest,  and 
remote  from  the  turmoil  of  the  lower  town.  It 
may  be  that  I  shall  desire  to  communicate  with 
you.  If  I  do,  I  shall  send  there  to  find  you.  Say 
as  little  of  your  name  as  suits  your  convenience 
till  this  mystery  unravels  itself  somewhat.  Fare- 
well; I  may  send  for  you  before  the  day  is  over." 


CHAPTER  VII 
PIERRE'S  SECRET 

Good  humored  little  Pierre  was  ducked  for  his 
offense  in  the  coffee-house.  He  was  taken  before 
the  magistrates  who  sat  in  the  great  room  in  the 
Stadt  Huys,  and  they  tried  him  legally  for  un- 
becoming conduct  towards  a  member  of  the  upper 
class.  Against  this  charge  there  was  very  little 
Pierre  could  offer  in  defense.  In  vain  he  pleaded 
that  he  had  seen  indirectly  and  meant  to  empty 
the  rum  upon  Kirstoffel.  The  charge  was  imme- 
diately changed  by  the  grave  Dutch  magistrates 
to  drunkenness  in  order  that  there  should  be  no 
mistake.  Pierre  perforce  gave  way  to  the  inev- 
itable. Through  the  influence  of  Van  Volkenberg 
who  had  not  yet  recovered  from  his  anger,  Pierre 
was  sentenced  to  the  ducking  stool.  The  indignity 
of  this  punishment  was  particularly  galling  to  Pierre 
because  it  was  commonly  reserved  for  scolding 
wives  and  spinster  crones  whose  tongues  were  too 
long  for  their  mouths. 

"I'll  go  to  the  pillory,  your  honor,"  he  said  pit- 
eously,  "or  ride  the  pinch-back  horse  a  week  of 
market  days;  but  to  be  ducked  like  a  woman !  And 
they  say  there  are  great  fish  in  the  bay  who  will 
nibble  my  toes.  Your  honor,  I  was  only  a  little 
drunk." 

80 


PIERRE'S  SECRET  81 

But  the  magistrates'  hearts  could  not  be  softened 
away  from  duty.  They  were  bringing  the  culprit 
out  of  the  Stadt  Huys  at  the  very  moment  that 
the  dominie  and  I  were  returning  from  our  visit 
to  the  fort.  We  met  them  with  half  the  town 
flocking  at  their  heels  and  clamoring  for  the  sport 
to  come.  Pierre,  slightly  sobered  by  his  experience 
at  the  court-room,  had  plucked  up  a  small  amount 
of  dignity.  He  walked  erect  as  if  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  take  his  punishment  like  a  man. 
I  looked  at  him  closely  and  believed  that  there  was 
more  stuff  to  the  fellow  than  at  first  appeared. 
His  face  wore  a  look  of  dogged  resentment;  such 
a  look  as  I  should  not  care  to  see  in  the  face  of 
an  enemy. 

The  ducking-stool,  which  was  attached  to  a  low, 
wheeled  platform,  was  soon  pushed  to  the  edge 
of  the  water.  Pierre  was  securely  bound  into  the 
chair  so  that  he  could  move  neither  hand  nor  foot, 
and  then  he  was  swung  out  in  mid  air  over  the 
water.  The  magistrate  mounted  on  a  platform 
near.  He  took  out  of  his  pocket  a  string  about  a 
yard  long  with  a  small  iron  ball  attached  to  the 
end  of  it.  He  held  one  end  of  the  string  in  his 
hand  and  set  the  ball  to  swinging  like  a  pendu- 
lum. 

"Let  him  go  down,"  he  cried. 

At  this  command  Pierre  was  soused  into  the 
water.  The  crowd  gave  a  cheer  and  fell  to  count- 
ing the  swings  of  the  pendulum.     At  first  there 


82  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

were  not  many  voices,  but  the  number  grew  with 
the  seconds.  At  twenty  they  sounded  Hke  a  dull 
roar.  At  thirty  the  people  were  clapping  their 
hands  and  stamping  their  feet  and  yelling  like 
mad. 

"Thirty-eight,"  rumbled  the  mob.  'Thirty-nine, 
forty." 

"Fetch  up,"  shouted  the  magistrate. 

Pierre  was  lifted  out  of  the  water,  dripping  and 
snorting  from  his  forty  seconds  beneath  the  sur- 
face. 

"Have  you  had  enough?"  asked  the  magistrate. 

"No,"  answered  Pierre  defiantly. 

"Dip  him  again." 

Once  more  he  was  mercilessly  ducked  into  the 
cold  water.  The  pendulum  was  again  set  in  mo- 
tion. The  crowd  fell  into  its  boisterous  count.  I 
looked  around  in  dismay. 

"Is  there  nothing  we  can  do?"  I  asked  the  dom- 
inie. 

"Nothing,"  answered  a  strange  voice  over  my 
shoulder. 

I  whirled  about  to  see  who  had  spoken,  and 
stood  face  to  face  with  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg. 
He  was  no  longer  the  anger-tossed  man  I  had 
seen  in  the  coffee-house.  He  was  now  cool  and 
collected.  A  sinister  smile  scarcely  ruffied  his  calm 
features.  But  when  he  spoke  to  me  his  voice  bit 
like  a  cold  wind. 

"No,  Monsieur  Le  Bourse — you  see  I  know  your 


PIERRE'S  SECRET  83 

name — no,  there  is  nothing  you  can  do.  But  we 
shall  meet  again." 

He  turned  away  instantly  and  was  swallowed 
in  the  crowd.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  expres- 
sion of  his  fierce  eyes.  I  recalled  the  warning 
Earl  Bellamont  had  given  me  and  I  clinched  my 
fists. 

At  that  moment  Pierre  was  ducked  for  the  third 
time.  When  he  came  up  the  magistrate  put  the 
usual  question. 

"Have  you  had  enough?" 

Pierre's  head  dropped  forward  upon  his  breast. 

"Yes,  yes,"  shouted  all.     "He  nods  yes." 

They  unbound  him  and  stood  him  on  his  feet. 
He  fell  full  length  upon  the  ground,  unconscious 
and  half  drowned.  At  that  moment  the  report  of 
a  cannon  boomed  over  the  city. 

"A  ship,  a  ship !"  shouted  a  hundred  voices. 

This  signal,  fired  from  the  Battery,  was  the  way 
of  announcing  the  arrival  of  a  vessel  in  the  port. 
The  crowd  forgot  all  about  Pierre  and  his  helpless 
condition.  In  two  minutes  the  square  was  va- 
cant save  for  three  men :  Pierre,  the  dominie,  and 
myself. 

Pierre  was  not  long  in  regaining  consciousness. 
He  was,  however,  too  weak  to  walk  alone.  I  lifted 
him  in  my  arms  and  was  about  to  carry  him  away 
when  we  met  Lady  Marmaduke  in  her  chair.  She 
bade  the  negro  carriers  set  her  down,  and  inquired 
what  was  the  matter. 


84  PAT  ROOM  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"Good  lack!  Little  Pierre  ducked  for  being 
drunk !  You  naughty  fellow.  How  often  have  I 
told  you  not  to  do  that  or  I  should  never  speak 
you  well  again  to  sweet  Annetje  Dorn?"  She 
paused;  her  face  clouded  and  grew  hard  and  bitter. 
I  heard  her  mutter  the  name  of  the  patroon. 
"Here,  put  him  in  my  chair,"  she  said  at  last.  "I 
will  attend  to  him."  She  got  in  herself  after  he 
was  comfortably  stowed  away,  and  then  left  us 
alone  upon  the  Slip. 

"Just  her  way,"  said  the  dominie.  "She'll  take 
care  of  him  and  nurse  him  and  feed  him  up  as  if  he 
were  her  own  child.  She  is  good  to  every  one, 
friend  or  slave,  it  makes  no  matter  which." 

I  accompanied  the  dominie  as  far  as  the  door 
of  his  house,  where  I  left  him  in  order  to  continue 
my  way  to  the  Ferry-House.  It  was  in  this  quiet 
ordinary  that  the  governor  had  advised  me  to  seek 
temporary  lodgings.  I  reached  the  place  without 
difficulty  and  was  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  the 
very  house  before  which  Lady  Marmaduke  had 
halted  her  coach  when  I  heard  her  speak  to  the 
people  and  bid  them  to  stand  fast  by  the  Earl  of 
Bellamont. 

I  went  in  and  made  the  necessary  arrangements 
to  stay  there  that  night,  and  then  sat  down  to 
eat  my  dinner  and  to  think  over  the  events  of 
the  day.  By  the  time  I  was  ready  to  rise  from  the 
table  the  hand  of  the  clock  was  close  upon  the 
stroke  of  two.    This  was  the  time  set  for  Bromm's 


PIERRE'S  SECRET  85 

proclamation  concerning  my  sister.  I  betook  my- 
self to  the  square  before  the  Stadt  Huys,  where 
I  walked  up  and  down  in  momentary  expectation 
of  the  crier.  The  public  excitement  of  the  morning 
was  somewhat  abated;  but  a  fair  crowd  had  gath- 
ered by  the  time  Bromm  appeared,  marching  be- 
hind two  drummers,  who  beat  a  sober  rap-tap 
suited  to  the  aged  man's  dehberate  step.  Bromm 
mounted  the  platform  near  the  public  scaffold  and 
began  to  read  his  proclamation.  It  was  short, 
simply  requesting  in  the  name  of  the  governor  any 
information  concerning  the  whereabouts  of  Ruth 
Le  Bourse.  At  the  first  reading  no  one  came  for- 
ward to  volunteer  any  information.  The  drums 
beat  again  and  Bromm  read  the  proclamation  a 
second  time.  Just  as  he  finished,  some  one  touched 
my  arm  from  behind.  It  was  Van  Volkenberg 
at  my  elbow  for  the  second  time  that  day.  He 
smiled  as  before,  the  same  cutting  smile  of  con- 
tempt. He  spoke  but  a  word  or  two  before  he 
vanished  in  the  cover  of  the  crowd;  but  he  had 
said  enough  to  rouse  my  anger. 

"Good  luck,  Monsieur  Le  Bourse;  but,  as  I  said 
before,  we  shall  meet  again.  Beware  of  the  Red 
Band." 

That  was  all  he  said.  His  words  were  nothing 
but  a  mere  threat.  But  he  had  done  something 
that  set  every  drop  of  blood  in  my  body  to  tingling 
with  hot  anger.  I  should  have  followed  him  had 
he  not  disappeared  instantly.    From  the  moment  I 


86  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

had  first  laid  eyes  on  this  man  in  the  Jacobite  Cof- 
fee-House  I  had  taken  an  unaccountable  dislike 
to  him.  Even  when  I  advanced  to  meet  him  in 
the  tap-room,  I  had  kept  the  silver  button  hid  in 
my  closed  hand  as  if  I  were  unwilling  to  acknowl- 
edge my  claim  upon  him.  Now  I  understood  what 
had  given  birth  to  my  unreasonable  antipathy.  As 
he  turned  away  after  speaking  the  above  words, 
Van  Volkenberg  made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  The 
patroon  w'as  a  Catholic.  How  I  thanked  God  I 
had  received  no  favor  from  him !  Instantly,  as 
one  sees  the  landscape  at  night  when  the  lightning 
flashes,  there  lay  before  me  that  scene  in  Paris  of 
the  black  robed  priest  who  years  before  had  caught 
my  sister  by  the  arm,  and  whom  I  had  struck  down 
upon  the  spot  as  he  deserved.  In  quick  succes- 
sion there  passed  before  my  mind's  eye  our  flight  to 
La  Rochelle,  my  ten  years  of  fruitless  search,  the 
Mariner's  Rest  at  Bristol,  our  last  separation — 
finally  the  public  flogging  I  had  received  in  Mary- 
land. All  these  troubles  had  been  brought  upon 
me  by  Catholics.  A  Catholic  was  once  more 
threatening  my  peace  of  mind,  telling  me  to  be- 
ware. I  little  knew  then  how  much  greater  cause 
I  had  to  hate  the  patroon  for  wrongs  already 
done  to  me  and  mine.  I  thought  only  of  the 
present  instant.  I  felt  that  we  two  were  fated  to — 
God  knows  what!  I  gripped  my  hands  together 
and  wished  that  I  could  hurry  time. 

Bromm  repeated  the  proclamation  again,  but  re- 


PIERRE'S  SECRET  87 

ceived  no  response.  He  marched  back  to  the  fort 
and  soon  the  crowd  drifted  into  smaller  groups. 
I  returned  to  the  Ferry-House  to  nurse  my  disap- 
pointment alone,  hoping  also  that  some  word 
would  come  from  the  Earl  concerning  news  re- 
ceived at  the  fort.  I  found  Pierre  sitting  alone  in 
a  corner  of  the  pubHc  room  when  I  entered  the 
Ferry-House. 

"Well,"  I  said.    "Have  you  recovered?" 

"Quite,"  he  answered;  then  he  blew  out  his  lips 
with  an  explosive  shiver.  "Ow,  it  was  cold !  But 
I  was  in  great  luck." 

"Luck,  Pierre,  to  be  ducked?" 

"No,  not  to  be  nibbled.  There  are  great  fish  in 
the  bay."  He  leaned  forward  and  continued  in  a 
low  confidential  voice.  "Lady  Marmaduke  gave 
me  such  a  dinner.  You  cannot  imagine  it.  There 
w^as  wine  right  out  of  France.  Do  you  think  if  I 
should  happen  to  be  ducked  again  she  would  hap- 
pen to  come  along?" 

I  could  not  forbear  to  laugh  and  Pierre  smiled 
too.  His  face,  however,  soon  changed,  and  his 
jovial  expression  was  replaced  by  the  hard  look  that 
I  had  seen  in  his  face  when  he  walked  to  the  place 
of  his  punishment. 

"I  came  here  for  a  purpose,  Monsieur  Le  Bourse, 
but — "  He  stopped  and  looked  about  him  as  if 
fearful  of  being  overheard.  His  lips  almost  touched 
my  ear  as  he  said,  "I  don't  mind  the  ducking.  I 
have  been  ducked  before.    It  was  the  man  who  did 


88  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

it.  I  shall  have  my  revenge.  Are  we  together 
on  that?" 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  I  clasped  it. 

"I  thought  so,"  he  continued.  "But  you  do  not 
know  the  half." 

Again  he  manifested  some  fear  of  being  over- 
heard. He  said  that  the  patroon  was  too  great  a 
man  to  be  talked  about  in  a  public  place  like  this. 
Would  I  walk  a  short  distance  into  the  country 
beyond  the  Wall?  He  had  news  that  should  be 
heard  only  by  me.  I  was  indeed  glad  to  go  with 
him.  We  left  the  city  by  the  Land-Gate,  and  soon 
came  to  a  little  bridge  over  a  narrow  creek. 

"This  is  the  Kissing  Bridge,"  he  said  with  a 
forlorn  sigh.  "Annetje  will  never  cross  the  bridge 
with  me.    She  always  makes  me  walk  in  front." 

Annetje  Dorn,  he  told  me,  was  his  sweetheart. 
She  was  a  bond  servant  at  Van  Volkenberg  manor- 
house  and  maid  to  the  patroon's  daughter  Miriam. 

"Ay,  that  she  is;  bond  servant  to  the  patroon 
just  Hke  your  sister."  He  clapped  his  hand  quickly 
over  his  mouth.  "Oh,  I  did  not  mean  to  let  it  out 
so  soon." 

I  gripped  him  by  the  arm.  "What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  said  that  you  did  not  know  half  of  what  you 
have  to  hate  him  for,"  replied  Pierre  fiercely. 
"Your  sister  Ruth  was  bound  out  in  service  to 
Kilian  Van  Volkenberg." 

I  was  now  to  learn  the  stuff  that  was  in  Pierre. 
His  jolly  manner  was  but  a  garment.     He  cast 


PIERRE'S  SECRET  89 

it  aside,  and,  as  we  walked  along,  he  spoke  to  me 
with  a  fierce  zeal  that  I  had  not  suspected  in 
him. 

"There  are  but  half  a  dozen  persons  in  New  York 
who  know  what  happened  to  your  sister.  I  dared 
not  speak  openly  to-day  when  Bromm  was  crying 
the  proclamation,  but  I  knew  that  my  time  had 
come.  He  set  his  dogs  on  me  one  night;  but  he 
made  a  mistake.  He  called  me  a  giggling  monkey. 
I'll  monkey  him.     Do  you " 

"For  God's  sake,  Pierre,"  I  interrupted.  "Tell 
me  what  you  know  of  my  sister." 

His  vague  hint  that  I  did  not  know  half  of  what  I 
had  to  hate  the  patroon  for  filled  me  with  dread. 
The  earnestness  of  my  voice  affected  him.  He 
dropped  the  side  threads  of  his  own  affairs  and  fell 
into  a  direct  relation  of  my  sister's  fate.  She  had 
arrived  safely  with  Captain  Donaldson  and  had  lived 
in  the  city  for  a  short  time.  Then  her  money  gave 
out  and  she  took  service  w4th  Van  Volkenberg, 
laying  the  condition,  however,  of  redeeming  herself 
at  any  time  if  I  should  return. 

"I  saw  her  more  than  once,"  said  Pierre.  "She 
was  a  sweet  girl.  Annetje  boxed  my  ears  once 
for  looking  at  her.  She  said  that  it  was  rude.  God 
knows  I  did  not  mean  it,  but  she  had  a  winsome 
face.  Every  one  said  that,  Annetje  Hke  the  rest. 
Her  lot  was  none  too  easy  at  the  manor.  They 
say  that  jMistress  Aliriam  took  great  abuse  for 
•Standing  between  her  and  the  patroon." 


90  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"Was  she  abused  by  him?"  I  asked. 

"Ay,  that  she  was." 

I  was  past  being  angry.  My  thoughts  did  not 
take  in  the  situation  at  the  manor-house  all  at  once; 
instead  I  found  myself  thinking  of  the  Mariner's 
Rest  and  of  Ruth's  treatment  there.  Something  in 
Pierre's  face  bade  me  give  up  hope,  as  if  a  heavy 
blow  had  fallen.  Suddenly  I  turned  and  caught  him 
by  the  shoulders  with  so  quick  a  motion  that  he  ut- 
tered a  startled  cry. 

"Tell  riie,  Pierre.  For  God's  sake  make  short 
work  of  this.    What  has  happened  to  her?" 

Instead  of  answering  me,  the  kind  hearted  fellow 
burst  into  tears.  "I  cannot,"  he  wailed.  "Oh,  I 
cannot;  it  will  break  your  heart." 

"It  is  past  that,  Pierre.    Is  she  dead?" 

"You  have  guessed  it.  God  forgive  me  that  I 
have  to  say  it." 

"Pierre,"  said  I.  "Go  over  there  by  the  bridge 
and  wait  for  me  till  I  come  to  you.  I  shall  follow 
you  soon." 

When  I  was  next  aware  of  outside  things,  Pierre 
stood  by  my  side  with  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder. 

"You  said  you  would  come  to  me  soon  and  you 
didn't.  That  is  why  I  came  back."  He  put  out 
his  hand  kindly.  "It  is  hard  work  to  bear  ill  news. 
I  Would  have  spared  you  if  I  could." 

We  walked  silently  around  the  small  lake  by 
which  we  had  stopped.  I  felt  in  a  daze  and  was 
more  than  once  aware  of  the  pressure  of  Pierre's^ 


PIERRE'S  SECRET  91 

hand  as  he  guided  me  gently  by  some  obstruction 
over  which  I  might  have  fallen.  Under  the  first 
weight  of  this  piece  of  news,  I  felt  only  grief  at  the 
death  of  my  beloved  sister.  It  was  not  until  I 
had  in  a  measure  recovered  my  self-control  that 
I  began  to  think  of  the  manner  in  which  she 
had  met  her  death  and  of  the  vague  hints  about 
the  patroon  that  Pierre  had  dropped.  Then,  with 
the  pain  of  comprehension  when  it  comes  too  late, 
I  recalled  the  sneering  smile  upon  the  patroon's 
face  as  he  accosted  me  in  the  crowd  before  the 
Stadt  Huys. 

"But  we  shall  meet  again,"  I  cried  aloud,  uncon- 
sciously repeating  his  words  to  me.  "He  knew 
it  when  he  spoke  to  me,  and  he  sneered  at  me."  I 
turned  upon  Pierre.  "Tell  me  further.  What  had 
he  to  do  with  her  death?" 

To  this  question  Pierre  would  give  no  answer. 
He  could  hardly  say,  he  said.  My  heart  sank,  for 
I  saw  from  his  face  that  he  was  afraid  to  tell 
the  truth. 

"Come  back  with  me,  Monsieur  Le  Bourse.  Let 
me  take  you  to  Lady  Marmaduke.  She  knows 
the  whole  story.     She  will  tell  you." 

Impatient  as  I  was,  I  was  content  to  wait.  The 
blow  that  had  fallen  upon  me  was  so  great  that 
I  could  scarcely  think.  A  child  could  have  led 
me.  For  the  time  being  I  had  no  will  of  my  own. 
Pierre  took  me  by  the  arm  and  led  me  forward. 
iWe  had  nearly  reached  the  bridge  on  our  return 


92,    PATROON.  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

when  the  clatter  of  horse  hoofs  fell  upon  our  ears 

along  the  road. 

"Hush,"  said  Pierre.     ''It  is  the  patroon." 
He  drew  me  back  behind  some  bushes,  where 

we  waited  in  silence  the  approach  of  a  numerous 

armed  cavalcade. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

LADY    MARMADUKE 

We  had  halted  behind  some  willows  that  over- 
hung the  brook  beneath  the  Kissing  Bridge.  Over 
this  bridge  ran  the  road,  which  led  north  from 
the  city  through  the  length  of  the  island  to  Harlem, 
passing  on  the  way  the  manor-house  and  park  of 
Patroon  Van  Volkenberg.  We  had  scarcely  con- 
cealed ourselves  behind  the  bushes  when  the  for- 
ward members  of  the  cavalcade  came  in  sight.  Two 
horsemen  led  the  way,  wearing  the  red  band  upon 
their  arms  and  carrying  blue  pennants  upon 
staves  that  were  thrust  into  their  stirrups.  Next 
came  the  patroon.  At  his  side  rode  a  slight,  al- 
most dwarflike  man  with  pale  features  and  snow 
white  hair. 

"That  is  Louis  Van  Ramm,"  whispered  Pierre 
as  the  dwarf  drew  near  the  bridge.  'Tt  was  he 
let  loose  the  dogs  on  me." 

The  patroon  himself,  who  sat  his  horse  firm  and 
erect,  looked  forty-five  or  fifty  years  of  age.  From 
time  to  time  he  would  turn  in  the  saddle  and  glance 
back  with  satisfaction  upon  his  score  of  followers, 
who  rode  two  and  two  behind  him.  He  was  their 
feudal  chief.  The  clanking  of  their  harness,  the 
irregular  clatter  of  the  horses'  feet  upon  the  hard 
road,  the  look  of  respect  with  which  every  eye  met 

93 


M  PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

his — all  this  inspired  the  patroon  with  the  feeling 
of  satisfaction  that  showed  so  plainly  in  his  finely 
modeled  face.  They  rode  by,  over  the  hollow 
sounding  bridge  and  up  the  long  hill,  till  the  last 
sharp  sounds  fainted  in  the  distance.  Only  the 
rustling  tree  tops  and  the  rippling  brook  remained 
to  disturb  the  soft  stillness  of  the  autumn  after- 
noon. 

Pierre  rose  and  I  followed  him;  first  up  a  steep 
footpath  and  then  along  the  highroad  till  we  came 
within  sight  of  the  town.  When  we  arrived  at  Lady 
Marmaduke's,  Pierre  led  the  way  to  the  back  en- 
trance, telling  me  to  wait  in  the  servant's  hall  while 
he  sought  admittance  to  my  lady's  presence.  He 
soon  returned  to  me  with  the  command  to  follow 
him. 

"She  will  talk  to  you,"  he  said,  as  we  threaded 
a  long,  dimly  lighted  corridor.  "Do  not  fear.  She 
is  a  good  friend  though  a  hard  woman,  I  have 
let  her  know  what  I  have  already  told  you.  She 
will  tell  you  what  else  there  is  to  be  known." 

In  answer  to  Pierre's  knock  a  soft  voice  bade 
me  enter.  It  was  not  such  a  voice  as  would  sug- 
gest the  "hard  woman"  of  Pierre's  description.  It 
was  the  tender,  feeling  voice  I  had  heard  when 
Lady  Marmaduke  spoke  to  the  people  about  her 
husband — when  she  spoke  to  them  tremblingly, 
straight  from  the  bottom  of  her  heart.  Pierre 
thrust  aside  the  drapery  of  the  door  and  I  stepped 
into  the  room  alone. 


LADY  MARMADUKE  95 

Lady  Marmaduke  was  in  the  farther  end  of  it, 
half  leaning,  half  sitting  upon  the  arm  of  a  chair. 
One  hand  rested  against  her  hip,  the  other  shaded 
her  eyes  while  she  watched  my  entrance.  I  had 
not  taken  three  steps  before  she  rose  and  came 
forward  to  greet  me  with  kindness.  Even  in  the 
half  light  of  the  room  I  could  catch  the  sweet  ex- 
pression of  her  face.  Despite  the  sorrow  in  my 
heart,  I  noticed  how  tall  and  straight  she  was,  and 
how  well  formed.  Though  her  face  looked  sweet 
and  soft,  when  she  took  my  hand  she  gripped  it 
with  the  strength  of  a  man,  looking  me  withal 
squarely  in  the  face  as  if  she  would  read  me  through 
and  through. 

"Sit  down,"  she  said  with  a  firm  air  of  command. 
The  very  tone  of  her  voice  was  soothing  and  made 
me  want  to  do  her  will.  When  I  had  obeyed  her, 
she  seated  herself  by  my  side  and  took  my  hand 
again.    "How  old  are  you?" 

"Thirty-five,"  I  answered  mechanically,  for  I  was 
still  half  dazed. 

"Then  I  shall  call  you  Michael,  for  we  are  to  be 
good  friends  and  I  am  old  enough  to  be  your 
mother.  Pierre  has  told  me  about  you  and  what  it 
is  you  want.  It  is  sad  news  I  have  to  tell  you, 
sadder  news  than  his;  yes,  much  sadder.  But  I 
should  not  hold  back.  You  are  a  brave  man,  are 
you  not?" 

She  paused  and  cast  her  eyes  upon  the  floor.  In 
spite  of  her  assertion  that  she  should  not  hold  back, 


96  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

she  found  her  task  a  hard  one,  and  she  was  loth 
to  begin  it.  "I  think  I  have  seen  you  before.  Were 
you  not  with  the  dominie  when  I  found  Pierre?" 

I  nodded  and  for  a  while  we  were  both  silent. 

"Madam,"  I  said  at  length.  "Anything  is  better 
than  suspense." 

"Poor  child,"  she  murmured  tenderly. 

Even  yet  she  must  cross  the  room  to  adjust  the 
curtains  before  she  found  voice  to  continue.  She 
resumed  her  seat  by  my  side  and  cleared  her  throat 
two  or  three  times. 

"It  is  seven  or  eight  months  since  your  sister  en- 
tered service  at  the  manor-house.  For  a  while  all 
went  well  enough.  I  heard  often  about  her  through 
Annetje  Dorn.  But  things  never  go  well  there  for 
long  at  a  time.  I  saw  Ruth  now  and  then  and  her 
cheeks  grew  pale  and  her  eyes  hollow.  I  think 
she  must  have  done  much  weeping.  She  found  her 
lot  a  hard  one,  much  harder  perhaps  because  the 
patroon  cast  longing  glances  at  her  pretty,  win- 
some face.  Yet  he  held  her  only  as  his  chattel.  One 
morning  she  was  found  in  her  bed — dead,  Michael 
Le  Bourse — dead  on  the  twelfth  day  of  last  July — 
I  say  the  twelfth  of  July." 

Short  as  her  narrative  had  been.  Lady  Marma- 
duke  had  worked  herself  into  a  state  of  excitement 
that  I  could  not  comprehend.  It  was  certainly  not 
due  to  me  nor  to  her  interest  in  my  afifairs,  for  she 
rose  and  strode  up  and  down  the  room  as  if  talking 
to  herself  and  utterly  oblivious  of  my  presence,  all 


LADY  MARMADUKE  971 

the  time  snapping  her  long  fingers  in  anger.  A 
hound  asleep  in  one  corner  of  the  room  awoke 
and  came  leaping  towards  her.  She  exclaimed  a 
sharp  word  of  rebuke  and  the  dog  slunk  back  with 
his  tail  between  his  legs.  After  five  minutes  more 
of  this  behavior  she  stopped  in  front  of  me,  her 
tall,  spare  figure  swaying  slowly  like  a  tree  trunk. 
I  rose  instinctively. 

"Yes,  Monsieur  Le  Bourse,  I  remember  the  day 
well.  On  the  twelfth  of  July  Sir  Evelin  Marmaduke 
was  lost  on  the  river.  His  boat  drifted  with  the 
tide  and  was  crushed  to  kindling  wood  in  Hell- 
Gate.  So  runs  the  tale  of  my  husband's  death.  It 
was  Kilian  Van  Volkenberg  brought  that  news. 
Why  should  he  be  the  first  to  know  it?  Before 
God,  he  shall  have  his  reward!  And  the  next  day 
your  sister  was  found  dead  in  her  bed." 

Again  she  fell  to  walking  back  and  forth  through 
the  room,  now  like  a  moving  statue  between  me 
and  the  window,  now  rustling  darkly  against  the 
hangings  on  the  wall.  Soon  she  was  master  of  her 
passion  and  returned  to  my  side. 

"There  is  no  truth  known  of  how  she  met  her 
death.  Without  doubt  she  tried  once  to  escape. 
She  was  followed  and  captured  by  the  patroon, 
brought  back  and  branded  on  the  shoulder  with  a 
red  hot  iron." 

A  cry  of  horror  burst  from  my  lips.  She  caught 
me  by  the  arm. 

"Hush!      It  was  unskilfully  done,  says  the  pa- 


98  PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

troon.  Her  weak  body  could  not  stand  the  torture 
and  she  died.  That  is  his  story,  but  it  is  a  he.  It 
is  a  he — for  I — I  stood  in  the  dead  of  night  and 
saw  the  grave  dug  up.  I  looked  at  her  body  with 
my  own  eyes.    She  had  not  been  branded." 

We  had  resumed  our  seats.  I  felt  like  moaning 
but  I  had  no  voice  for  words.  This  strong  woman 
charmed  me  as  by  a  spell.  Her  manner  showed 
that  there  was  still  worse  to  come. 

"Yet  she  had  died,  and  in  some  way  that  the 
patroon  found  it  necessary  to  lie  about  in  order 
to  conceal  the  truth.  Annetje  has  told  Pierre  that 
on  the  night  your  sister  died  she  is  sure  she  heard 
the  patroon  visit  your  sister's  room. 

"Don't,"  I  cried.  "Anything  but  that.  I  can- 
not stand  that.  My  Ruth,  my  little  Ruth !"  I  fell 
to  weeping  and  found  great  relief  in  tears.  Lady 
Marmaduke  became  all  tenderness.  She  stroked 
my  hands,  and  then  put  her  arm  about  me  and 
walked  up  and  down  the  room  as  if  I  were  a  girl. 
It  was  long  since  I  had  felt  the  need  of  an  arm 
to  rest  on,  but  I  turned  to  the  strength  of  hers 
like  a  child  to  its  mother. 

At  length  she  stopped  short  and  took  her  sup- 
porting arm  away  from  me.  "You  will  have  time 
enough  to  grieve,"  she  said.  "You  must  be  a  man 
now."  I  looked  into  her  face  and  understood  why 
Pierre  had  called  her  a  hard  woman.  But  perhaps 
he  had  never  seen  her  other  side  as  I  had !  "Yes, 
Michael,"   she  continued.     "It  is  time  you  trod 


LADY  MARMADUKE  99 

upon  your  weakness  and  became  a  man.  Do  you 
not  see  your  duty?  Are  you  not  ready  to  take 
your  right?"  She  held  me  off  at  arm's  length  and 
looked  sternly  into  my  eyes  as  she  pronounced  the 
word  "Revenge." 

"I  shall  kill  him  to-night,"  I  answered. 

Her  only  response  was  a  sharp  snap  of  her  fin- 
gers. The  hound  she  had  rebuked  before  bounded 
joyfully  to  her  side.  She  stooped  and  parted  his 
shaggy  hair  with  her  fingers. 

"See,"  she  said,  showing  me  a  deep  scar  upon 
his  side.  "This  was  the  work  of  the  patroon.  The 
dog  would  have  torn  him  to  pieces  but  I  called  him 
back.  Would  you  have  me  kill  him  with  a  dog? 
No — I  have  a  score  of  servants  in  my  house  who 
would  do  as  you  say  you  would  do,  servants  who 
would  kill  him  to-night  if  I  lifted  my  hand.  But 
you  are  not  my  servant  nor  shall  you  do  it  either." 

"But "  I  remonstrated,  and  got  no  further 

before  she  interrupted  me. 

"Don't  but  me !  You  and  Pierre  and  I — each 
of  us  has  his  word  to  say  to  the  patroon.  But  we 
shall  say  it  like  men.  Though  A^'an  Volkenberg  is 
a  merchant  he  knows  what  war  is  and  understands 
the  game  of  life.  What  is  death  to  such  a  man  as 
he  is  if  he  does  not  know  why  he  dies.  I  shall 
ruin  him  first.  With  the  help  of  Earl  Richard,  I 
shall  make  him  taste  of  the  bitterness  of  life  before 
I  give  him  death  to  sweeten  his  woe.  Before  God, 
he  shall  find  death  sweet  unless  I  fail.     You  shall 


100        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

not  kill  him  till  I  give  the  word.  Do  you  prom- 
ise?" 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  the  cross-shaped  hilt  of 
my  sword. 

"Will  you  swear  upon  your  sword?  Will  you 
stay  here,  not  as  my  servant  but  as  my  friend? 
iWill  you  work  with  me  to  bring  God's  judgment 
on  this  Roman  Catholic?" 

Her  last  reference  wakened  all  my  bitter 
thoughts.  I  fell  on  my  knees  before  her  and  took 
one  of  her  hands  between  mine  as  the  old  custom  is. 

"I  swear  to  be  your  man,"  I  cried.  *'I  will  be 
loyal  to  you  and  to  the  Earl,  who  is  your  friend.  My 
sister's  blood  shall  not  dry  unavenged,  but  I  sur- 
render myself  to  you.  Henceforth  I  swear  to  be 
your  man." 

She  lifted  me  and  kissed  me  on  the  forehead. 
"We  have  free  manners  here,  Michael.  If  you  have 
a  sister  whose  blood  cries  out,  I  have  a  husband's. 
The  patroon  brought  the  news  of  his  death.  I 
know  he  murdered  Sir  Evelin.  I  have  seen  it  in 
my  dreams.  This  great  hate  of  mine  could  not 
come  without  some  cause  in  nature.  We  shall 
play  well  together,  Michael,  you  and  I." 

She  took  me  by  the  arm  and  led  me  through  the 
passages  of  the  house,  through  many  turnings  and 
up  narrow  stairs  to  a  little  gable  room. 

"This  shall  be  your  room.  I  will  instruct  the 
servants  that  you  are  to  come  and  go  as  you  please. 
I  am  setting  out  now  to  keep  an  appointment  with 


L'ADY  MARMADUKE  lOf 

the  Earl.  He  too  is  engaged  in  a  death  struggle 
with  the  patroon.  Methinks  the  three  of  us  shall 
win  a  victory." 

With  that  she  left  me  alone.  I  glanced  about 
the  room  which  contained  everything  for  a  per- 
son's comfort.  From  the  window  I  could  look  out 
beyond  the  Wall  to  the  rolling  hills  covered  with 
woodland.  Then  I  threw  myself  upon  the  bed 
and  put  my  face  in  my  hands. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   RED    BAND   AT   DRILL 

When  I  think  back  upon  the  mysterious  occur- 
rences of  the  night  which  followed  my  introduction 
into  the  household  of  Lady  Marmaduke,  I  hardly 
know  how  to  tell  them.  It  was  not  till  long  after- 
ward that  I  knew  exactly  what  I  had  done  that 
night.  I  was  like  a  man  gone  half  asleep.  Surely 
I  ought  to  bear  no  blame  for  my  lack  of  reason. 
For  the  last  ten  years,  with  the  exception  of  those 
short  weeks  in  Captain  Donaldson's  ship,  I  had 
been  searching  endlessly  for  my  sister.  During 
that  long  period  there  had  been  moments  of  de- 
spondency; at  times  my  search  was  quite  neglected; 
yet  never  for  an  instant  had  I  given  up  all  hope. 
Now  everything  was  at  an  end.  My  life  seemed 
snapped  in  two.  Had  such  a  blow  come  ten  years 
before  I  might  have  cursed  God  in  my  folly.  I 
might  have  plunged  recklessly  into  the  first  danger 
that  awaited  me.  But  years  of  restrained  im- 
pulse had  greatly  changed  my  character.  I  had 
passed  the  rash  age  of  youth,  and  now  I  almost 
sank  beneath  the  burden  that  seemed  greater  than 
I  could  bear. 

In  this  state  of  mind  my  little  room  in  the  gable 
of  Marmaduke  Hall  was  too  confining.    It  seemed 

103 


?^' 


"SOON  1  CAME  UPON  A  WOMAN  KNEELING 
IN  THE  GRASS."-p.  103 


THE  'RED  'B'AND  7LT  DRILL  103 

as  if  I  could  not  get  my  breath,  and  it  made  my 
head  reel  to  look  down  from  the  high  window.  I 
could  see  the  swaying  trees  upon  the  hills  beyond 
the  city,  and  they  seemed  to  beckon  me  to  come  to 
their  solitary  shade  for  comfort,  and  I  went.  I  can 
recollect  very  little  of  what  followed.  I  remember 
that  I  paused  once  by  the  city  gate  to  look  back 
at  the  house  which  I  had  left.  A  picture  came  into 
my  eye  of  the  relentless  woman  who  had  told  me 
news  that  was  bitter  as  wormwood;  yet  she  was 
kind  and  considerate  withal.  I  turned  away  and 
set  my  face  towards  the  sighing  woodland. 

I  threw  myself  down  on  my  back  beneath  an  oak 
tree.  There  was  a  small  patch  of  blue  sky  visible, 
and  now  and  then  a  bird  swam  lazily  across  it.  Did 
I  fall  asleep  and  dream,  or  did  I  rise  and  walk  about 
unconsciously?  I  do  not  know  much  of  what  I 
did;  but  soon  I  was  walking.  I  was  not  aware 
of  the  exact  moment  when  I  began  to  move,  nor 
how  long  I  had  been  winding  my  way  in  and  out 
among  the  trees  when  the  sound  of  sobbing  grew 
upon  my  ears.  It  startled  me  and  I  began  to  look 
around  and  to  follow  the  sound  without  knowing 
just  where  I  went,  in  that  vague  way  one  is  so  used 
to  in  dreams.  Soon  I  came  upon  a  woman  kneeling 
in  the  grass.  She  was  very  beautiful  and  my  heart 
went  out  to  her  for  she  was  weeping  bitterly  and 
seemed  in  great  distress.  My  appearance  must 
have  scared  her  for  she  hastily  covered  something 
upon  the  ground  and  then  sprang  up  in  great  alarm. 


104    PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

She  was  dressed  in  a  white  robe  that  floated  about 
her  Hke  an  angel.  For  just  a  moment  she  let  me 
see  her  sweet  tear-stained  face;  then  she  was  gone. 
Her  dark  hair  and  sorrowful  expression  made  such 
a  lifelike  impression  upon  me  that  I  almost  thought 
it  could  not  be  a  dream.  Yet  in  a  moment  she  had 
vanished  like  a  breeze.  Near  the  spot  where  she 
had  stood  the  grass  curved  upward  over  a  small 
mound.  I  drew  near  to  examine  what  from  its 
appearance  I  thought  should  be  a  grave. 

When  I  first  came  upon  the  woman  she  made  a 
hasty  move  to  cover  something  upon  the  ground. 
At  the  head  of  the  grave  I  spied  a  loose  sod  which 
I  lifted.    Beneath  it  was  a  flat  stone  inscribed  with 
the  one  word  "Ruth."     I  fell  on  my  knees  and 
wept.     Surely  God  had  sent  me  a  vision!     I  lay 
full  length  on  the  grave,  kissing  the  cold  stone 
and  plucking  blades  of  grass  to  strew  upon  it  in 
place  of  flowers.     How  I  thanked  God  for  this 
dream !     He  had  led  me  into  green  pastures.    Thy 
rod  and  Thy  staff,  O  God,  they  comfort  me ! 
Suddenly  the  visitant  reappeared. 
"Sir,"  she  said.    "You  are  in  sore  trouble." 
I  pointed  to  the  grave.    "She  was  my  sister." 
She  was  startled  by  this  and  eyed  me  with  a 
doubtful  anxious  look.     I  cannot  recall  what  she 
said  to  me,  but  after  a  while  she  opened  the  bosom 
of  her  robe,  whence  she  drew  forth  a  small  ivory; 
minature  enclosed  in  a  gold  rim. 

"See;  your  sister  wore  it  before  she  died." 


THE  RED  BAND  AT  DRILL  105 

I  looked.  It  contained  the  counterfeit  of  my  own 
face,  like  one  I  had  given  Ruth  upon  the  ocean. 
God  is  merciful,  but  His  mercies  are  quick  to  come 
and  go.  The  vision  disappeared;  yet  its  blessed 
presence  had  made  me  feel  that  I  had  stood  close 
in  Ruth's  heart  to  the  very  end  of  her  life  even  as 
she  had  stood  in  mine. 

There  follows  a  blank  space  in  my  memory  dur- 
ing which  I  can  remember  nothing.  The  trees 
at  last  seemed  to  force  themselves  into  my  con- 
sciousness again.  They  tramped  by  me  in  an  end- 
less procession.  I  grew  cold  and  began  to  shiver. 
A  sharp  pricking  attacked  my  legs.  I  looked  down 
to  discover  the  cause  of  this  sensation  and  saw  that 
I  was  standing  in  water  up  to  my  knees.  Like  a 
flash  it  all  came  over  me;  I  had  been  walking  in 
my  sleep. 

I  waded  back  to  the  shore  and  sat  down  to  think. 
The  place  was  all  new  to  me,  I  had  not  the  least 
idea  where  I  was.  A  narrow  rim  of  gravely  beach 
encircled  the  little  lake  into  which  I  had  stumbled; 
but  this  told  me  nothing,  nor  could  I  see  the  least 
sign  of  a  path.  So,  after  a  few  moments,  I  got 
up  to  walk  around  in  the  hope  of  discovering  some 
beaten  path  that  would  lead  me  out  of  the  woods. 

As  I  walked  I  kept  dwelling  upon  what  I  had 
seen  in  my  dream.  It  never  occurred  to  me  that 
perhaps  I  had  seen  a  real  person.  To  be  sure,  my 
memory  was  so  vivid  that  I  was  tempted  to  say: 
"How  could  it  be  a  dream?"    For  all  that,  I  never 


106   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

doubted  that  it  was  a  supernatural  appearance.  My 
only  thought  was  that  our  Heavenly  Father  had 
sent  me  this  in  my  distress  to  comfort  me,  and 
to  assure  me  that  Ruth's  last  thoughts  were  of 
me,  and  that  she  still  watched  over  me  in  heaven 
as  on  earth. 

As  I  said,  when  I  came  to  myself  in  the  water 
I  was  in  full  possession  of  my  wits  though  I  did 
not  recognize  where  I  was.  I  had  wandered  into 
a  narrow  lake  whose  cold  water  had  chilled  me  into 
consciousness.  I  waded  back  to  the  shore  and  set 
out  along  the  ribbon  of  pebbly  beach,  hoping  to 
find  a  path.  The  trees  were  close  together,  over- 
hanging the  steep  bank.  By  this  time  I  must  have 
been  abroad  in  the  woods  for  some  hours  for  it 
had  now  become  dark  and  the  moon  was  up.  It 
was  not  long  before  I  discovered  an  ascending 
footpath,  very  narrow,  and  cut  in  steps  up  the  bank. 
From  the  top  of  the  clifif  to  which  this  path  led, 
the  ground  sloped  gently  through  the  woods 
towards  the  north.  The  trees  became  more  and 
more  thinly  scattered  as  I  went  forward.  Soon 
I  was  aware  of  a  reddish  glow  in  the  branches 
ahead  of  me.  As  I  drew  near  the  light  became 
brighter  and  flickered  like  a  fire.  Sharp  sounds 
of  clanking  metal  fell  upon  my  ears  and,  from  time 
to  time,  a  quick  word  or  two  of  command  in  a 
ringing  voice. 

Twenty  steps  farther  brought  me  to  where  I 
could  see  the  source  of  the  light  and  sound.    The 


THE  RED  BAND  AT  DRILL  107 

woodland  ended  at  a  level,  grassy  plain  that  ex- 
tended a  quarter  of  a  mile  towards  a  towered  build- 
ing, a  huge  pile  of  shadows  and  dim  walls.  At 
regular  intervals  before  it  were  planted  burning 
cressets.  They  were  arranged  in  a  large  square 
on  the  lawn  so  as  to  send  their  vagrant  lights  and 
shadows  dancing  over  its  gloomy  walls.  A  com- 
pany of  men  stood  motionless  within  the  square  of 
torches,  like  troops  in  regular  order.  Suddenly 
another  sharp  word  of  command  broke  the  stillness. 
A  sparkling  flash  from  every  man  showed,  what 
I  had  not  noticed  before,  that  each  man  was  armed 
with  a  sword.  I  looked  close  for  the  commander; 
but  not  till  he  spoke  a  second  time  could  I  make 
out  his  position  on  a  terrace  in  front  of  the  house. 
I  started  violently  when  my  eyes  fell  upon  him. 
The  leader  of  this  band  of  troopers  was  Kilian  Van 
Volkenberg.  I  had  come  upon  the  Red  Band  at 
drill  in  the  dark  woods  at  night.  "The  patroon 
and  his  Red  Band  will  ruin  this  city  yet,"  the 
dominie  had  said  to  me.  A  hundred  or  more  of 
his  armed  men  were  now  before  me.  Surely  this 
was  a  dangerous  gathering !  They  were  well-armed 
and  perfectly  drilled  like  the  regular  soldiers  of 
the  king. 

The  host  at  Gravesoon  had  spoken  of  Van  Volk- 
enberg as  the  Armed  Patroon.  Now  I  understood 
the  meaning  of  the  term,  though  I  did  not  know 
till  later  that  he  was  the  only  patroon  in  New  York 
who  had  organized  his  retainers  into  a  regular  mill- 


108    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

tary  band.  No  wonder  the  authorities  looked 
askance  upon  this  new  departure  in  the  province, 
and  feared  a  serious  clash  between  him  and  the 
governor.  How  just  these  fears  were  will  soon  be- 
come apparent;  but  at  that  time  I  was  so  ignorant 
of  affairs  that  I  thought  this  company — so  suggest- 
ive of  European  customs — quite  an  ordinary  sight. 

While  I  stood  in  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  gazing 
upon  this  group  of  soldiers,  a  woman  came  out  of 
the  house  upon  the  platform.  Though  I  could  not 
see  her  face  at  first  because  of  the  shadow  where 
she  stood,  most  of  her  body  was  in  the  compass  of 
the  light.  She  was  dressed  in  white  and,  like  me, 
watching  the  drilling  of  the  Red  Band.  After  ten 
minutes  had  elapsed,  she  stepped  forward  and 
touched  the  patroon  upon  the  arm.  When  the 
light  fell  upon  her  face  I  was  startled  into  a  cry  of 
recognition  that  would  have  betrayed  my  presence 
had  the  troopers  been  alert  for  signs  of  intrusion. 
She  was  the  woman  who  had  appeared  to  me  in 
my  dream. 

The  patroon  turned  to  her  and  made  an  angry 
gesture  to  depart.  She  withdrew  into  the  house 
immediately  and  I  saw  no  more  of  her.  When 
the  company  of  soldiers  broke  up  for  the  night, 
they  disappeared  right  and  left,  passing  around 
and  behind  the  house.  Van  Volkenberg  entered 
the  manor-house  by  the  same  door  through  which 
the  woman  had  retreated.  From  what  I  had  been 
told  about  the  position  of  the  manor  I  was  able 


THE  RED  'BAND  AT  DRILL  109 

to  find  without  difficulty  the  road  that  led  to  New 
York.  As  I  walked  along  it  my  mind  was  full  of 
the  mystery  of  the  strange  woman  I  had  seen  upon 
the  terrace,  and  of  her  I  had  seen  in  my  dream. 
Had  I  really  met  some  one,  and  had  I  been  but 
partly  conscious  of  the  fact?  I  could  not  tell.  Of 
one  thing,  however,  I  was  aware.  My  spirit  had 
returned  to  me.  As  Lady  Marmaduke  would  have 
said,  I  was  a  man  again.  I  was  now  firm  with 
determination.  I  had  been  through  the  valley  of 
the  shadow.  I  had  come  out  with  new  strength 
ready  to  fight  the  good  fight.  I  felt  myself  to 
be  God's  avenging  minister,  destined  to  bring  pun- 
ishment upon  my  sister's  murderer.  I  knelt  down 
in  the  dusty  road,  where  I  prayed  to  God  for  power 
and  guidance.  I  rose  from  my  prayer  buoyant 
and  eager  in  spirit. 

Still  I  could  not  get  my  mind  away  from  the 
woman.  Were  they  one  and  the  same  person  or 
had  I  made  a  mistake?  The  woman  upon  the  ter- 
race must  have  been  the  person  Captain  Tew  had 
spoken  of  as  Miriam  Van  Volkenberg.  But  if  she 
was  the  patroon's  daughter,  how  came  she  to  figure 
in  my  dream?  What  trick  of  fate  had  coupled  her 
and  Ruth  and  me  together  in  this  fashion?  Then 
I  recalled  what  Pierre  had  said:  That  the  pa- 
troon's daughter  had  loved  Ruth  and  had  been 
treated  badly  on  account  of  her  affection.  That 
seemed  to  explain  the  fitness  of  it  all,  but  it  did  not 
reconcile  the  reality  with  the  dream. 


110        PAT  ROOM  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

In  this  frame  of  mind  I  approached  New  York. 
I  continued  to  ponder  that  sweet,  wistful  face. 
Gradually,  as  I  walked  along  in  the  dust  and  dark, 
I  became  aware  of  a  narrow  pressure  about  my 
neck.  I  put  up  my  hand  and  touched  a  strange 
piece  of  ribbon.  I  caught  at  it  in  surprise.  My 
fingers  closed  on  a  small  locket.  I  held  it  before 
me  in  the  moonlight.  It  was  the  ivory  miniature 
in  a  gold  rim;  the  very  picture  of  myself  that  the 
woman  had  shown  me  in  my  dream.  Then  I  un- 
derstood. I  had  met  Miriam  Van  Volkenberg  in 
the  woods.  She  had  recognized  me  from  the  pic- 
ture in  the  locket  and  had  given  me  this  keepsake 
from  my  sister. 


CHAPTER  X 

MY  FIRST  COMMISSION 

When  I  returned  to  Marmaduke  Hall  I  found 
every  one  in  bed  asleep  except  a  lad  who  had  been 
left  to  attend  me  to  my  room.  He  informed  me  that 
his  mistress  had  been  impatient  at  my  absence,  had 
inquired  again  and  again  where  I  could  be,  and  at 
last  had  given  up  waiting  for  me,  very  much  vexed 
at  my  failure  to  return. 

"She  was  in  a  great  state  to  see  you,"  said  the 
lad,  *'and  she  left  word  for  you  to  be  at  her  break- 
fast table  early,  by  nine  o'clock." 

In  spite  of  the  fatigue  of  my  wanderings,  I  was 
awake  betimes.  While  the  clock  was  still  strik- 
ing nine  I  entered  the  dining  hall.  Lady  Marma- 
duke sat  alone  at  a  table  in  an  alcove  that  opened 
out  of  the  main  room.  When  she  rose  to  greet 
me,  which  she  did  cordially,  I  noticed  that  she  held 
a  sheet  of  paper  in  her  hand. 

"If  this  letter  from  his  Excellency,"  she  said, 
pointing  to  the  paper  in  her  hand,  "had  not  ar- 
rived before  you  did,  you  would  have  tasted  of  my 
tongue.  I  had  a  round  scolding  ready  for  you, 
but  this  letter  shall  give  you  a  chance  to  explain 
yourself." 

She  was  playful  in  her  manner,  yet  I  could  see 
that  she   had  been  considerably  put  out  by  my 

111 


112        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

absence  the  night  before.  I  made  haste  to  ac- 
quaint her  with  my  story,  though  I  said  nothing 
of  the  mysterious  woman  I  had  seen. 

"Ah,  Michael,"  she  said  when  I  was  done.  "I 
forgive  you  and  you  must  forgive  me  for  being 
angry  with  you.  Yet  I  had  better  cause  than  you 
think.  Listen  to  this  passage  from  the  governor's 
note  which  came  to  me  less  than  an  hour  ago. 

**  'Fortune  seems  to  smile  graciously  upon  us. 
[The  ship  came  no  nearer  shore,  nor  did  any  of  its 
crew  condescend  to  visit  the  town.  Perhaps  they 
have  concluded  to  wait  till  to-night.' 

"Do  you  understand  that,  my  Michael?  A 
strange  ship  has  anchored  in  the  lower  bay.  It  is 
probably  a  pirate  ship  and  Earl  Richard  and  I  had 
planned  to  have  you  watch  it;  but  when  I  came 
home  you  were  not  to  be  found.  However,  it  has 
turned  out  all  right  after  all." 

She  glanced  out  of  the  window,  but  soon  re- 
sumed her  speech. 

"You  know  of  course  that  the  buccaneers  are 
forbidden  the  use  of  the  port.  Van  Volkenberg  has 
much  dealing  with  them.  This  fact  I  know  but  we 
cannot  prove  it.  Oh,  if  we  could  only  trap  him 
once  in  a  secret  meeting!  We  want  a  handle 
against  him."  She  brought  her  fist  down  on  the 
table  with  a  blow  that  made  the  dishes  rattle.  "I 
tell  you  we  must  have  a  handle  against  the  scoun- 
drel or  we  can  do  nothing.  You  need  not  look 
so  amazed;  but  I  forget  how  ignorant  you  are.    We 


MY  FIRST  COMMISSION  113 

are  to  meet  the  Earl  at  eleven  o'clock.  I  must 
give  you  a  lesson  in  affairs  so  that  you  will  know 
what  we  are  talking  about.  You  remember 
Fletcher?  He  was  the  man  you  saw  with  the  pa- 
troon  at  the  coffee-house.  He  was  the  former  gov- 
ernor and  a  worse  wretch  never  walked  the  streets 
of  Yorke.  The  pirates  bribed  him,  and  the  mer- 
chants bribed  him,  and  he  bribed  them  back  for 
he  was  sore  in  need  of  friends.  Then,  to  curry  him- 
self into  further  favor,  he  began  to  deal  out  the 
land  of  the  province.  He  gave  a  hundred  square 
miles  to  William  Pinhorne  to  make  him  a  patroon 
in  the  Mohawk  valley.  He  sold  both  sides  of  the 
Hudson  River  as  far  north  as  Albany.  There  is 
hardly  a  square  mile  in  the  whole  province  that  can 
be  bought  honestly  for  love  or  money." 

I  interrupted  her  to  ask  information  concerning 
the  geography  of  the  province,  for  I  was  as  ignorant 
of  that  as  of  affairs.  When  she  had  satisfied  my 
curiosity  she  continued. 

"That  is  why  the  king  appointed  another  gov- 
ernor. As  soon  as  Fletcher  heard  of  this  check 
upon  his  practices,  he  showed  his  knavery  in  a  new 
light.  He  leased  the  King's  farm,  which  should 
by  right  go  to  the  support  of  Earl  Richard's  house- 
hold. He  gave  the  center  of  the  island  to  Van 
Volkenberg  so  as  to  have  a  friend  near  at  hand. 
The  dog  had  the  impudence  to  title  the  patroon 
with  this  very  house.  This  estate  was  deeded  to 
my  husband  during  his  lifetime,  and  Fletcher  gave 


114   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

it  to  the  patroon  from  the  day  of  his  death,  not- 
withstanding the  fact  that  Sir  Evelin  was  ahve  at 
the  time  of  the  grant.  Earl  Bellamont  has  reversed 
the  grant  and  only  yesterday,  the  first  day  of  the 
new  Assembly,  this  estate  was  given  to  me  and 
my  heirs  forever.  Van  Volkenberg  swears  he  will 
have  it  yet  if  he  has  to  fight  for  it.  We  shall  see 
about  that." 

A  servant  came  to  the  door  to  take  orders  for 
my  lady's  coach.  She  told  him  to  have  it  ready  be- 
fore eleven,  as  she  intended  to  wait  upon  the  Earl  at 
that  hour. 

"Bellamont  prides  himself  on  his  gentle  blood," 
she  continued  as  soon  as  the  servant  had  left  us 
alone.  "But  it  is  a  great  clog  to  him  at  times.  It 
was  all  I  could  do  to  get  him  to  permit  you  to  watch 
secretly  upon  the  strange  ship  that  has  come  into 
the  bay.  He  is  greatly  addicted  to  open  means  and 
he  said  that  it  would  be  taking  an  unfair  advantage 
to  spy  on  people  of  whom  we  knew  no  absolute 
harm.  But  I  urged  necessity  and  told  him  flatly 
that  if  he  did  not  I  should  commission  you  to  do 
it  myself.  That  fetched  him.  In  spite  of  his  fine 
blood  he  is  jealous  withal.  The  very  idea  of  some- 
one plotting  without  his  help  sets  him  on  end  with 
curiosity.  Mark  my  word,  before  we  are  done  with 
this  affair  we  shall  have  to  jog  our  own  gait  if  we 
are  to  jog  at  all.  You  must  fight  a  rogue  with  a 
rogue's  tricks.     Never  forget  that.     However,  we 


MY  FIRST  COMMISSION  US 

must  be  careful  not  to  ruffle  the  Earl  and  not  to  set 
his  jealousy  agog." 

A  little  later  I  was  booted  and  spurred  and  ready- 
to  ride  at  the  side  of  my  mistress's  coach.  We  set 
out,  accompanied  by  her  numerous  retinue  of  state. 
At  every  street  corner  we  were  greeted  with  cheers, 
for  the  common  people  loved  her  w^ell.  I  noticed 
that  more  than  one  of  the  persons  we  passed  on  the 
way  showed  surprise  in  his  face  at  seeing  a  well- 
mounted  stranger  in  the  place  of  honor  by  the 
coach.  We  passed  the  Jacobite  Coffee-House  and 
among  those  who  stood  upon  the  upper  balcony  to 
see  us  pass  was  the  patroon.  He  frowned  sullenly 
in  answer  to  Lady  Marmaduke's  dignified  bow  of 
recognition,  which  sign  of  displeasure  caused  her  to 
break  into  merry  laughter. 

"I  shall  drive  the  old  fox  into  his  hole  yet,"  she 
said  in  an  undertone,  when  we  had  passed  the 
tavern.  "But  he  is  a  crafty  old  fox.  No  one  can 
deny  that." 

At  the  outer  entrance  of  the  fort  I  dismounted 
and  led  Lady  Marmaduke  through  the  stone  arch 
and  across  the  paved  court  to  the  governor's  man- 
sion. 

"The  Earl  was  struck  with  your  hatred  of  the 
patroon  yesterday,  even  before  I  told  him  the  story 
about  Ruth,"  whispered  Lady  Marmaduke.  "Do 
not  be  too  nice  about  accepting  his  commissions. 
He  will  be  glad  of  whatever  you  do,  though  he  may 
not  altogether  approve  in  advance.    His  great  fault 


116        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

is  in  delay.  Sometimes  he  gets  stirred  up  and  acts 
like  a  whirlwind,  but  generally  he  wastes  time  by 
waiting  for  a  better  chance.  I  have  persuaded  him 
this  time;  that  is,  if  he  has  not  cooled  over  night." 

Lady  Marmaduke  explained  to  the  Earl  in  a  few 
words  whatever  was  necessary  to  account  for  my 
non-appearance  the  night  before.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  interrogate  me  closely  about  all  that  had 
passed  between  me  and  Captain  Tew. 

"You  see,  Monsieur  Le  Bourse,  these  enormous 
tracts  of  land  that  have  been  granted  by  my  prede- 
cessor in  office  must  be  annulled  or  the  proper 
revenues  cannot  be  forwarded  to  my  royal  master, 
his  majesty,  the  King." 

''Your  own  table  cannot  be  furnished  either," 
added  Lady  Marmaduke,  "unless  you  get  back  the 
King's  farm." 

"Quite  true,  but  that  is  a  small  matter  compared 
with  what  is  due  to  my  beloved  King  and  master. 
I  well  remember  the  day  on  which  he  informed  me 
of  the  high  honor  he  had  conferred  upon  my  un- 
worthy self,  which  fact  he  graciously  made  known 
to  me  with  his  own  royal  lips.  'Richard,'  he  said, 
'you  have  used  your  sword  well  for  me.  Now,  I 
want  you  to  use  your  head.  These  enormous  grants 
by  Fletcher  must  be  annulled.  But  it  must  be  done 
legally;  I  will  not  have  a  bad  example  set  in  the 
use  of  the  law.    I  have  implicit  trust  in  you.'  " 

"Indeed,  your  Excellency,"  broke  in  Lady  Mar- 
maduke.   "I  wish  he  had  shown  that  trust  to  a  little 


MY.  FIRST.  COMMISSION  117 

more  practical  advantage.  He  might  have  given 
you  more  power  to  act  for  yourself." 

"I  am  somewhat  restricted,"  replied  the  Earl. 
"Beshrew  me!  That  is  an  ungracious  reflection. 
The  King  has  planned  all  for  the  best.  Though  I 
must  report  to  his  council  for  approval,  the  delay 
gives  me  all  the  more  opportunity  to  make  certain, 
to  collect  more  weighty  evidence.  I  wish  I  could 
utilize  this  matter  with  Tew.  I  shall  not,  however, 
lest  I  compromise  Monsieur  Le  Bourse." 

"The  transaction  is  so  old  I  don't  believe  it  would 
do  us  much  good,"  said  Lady  Marmaduke. 

"I  have  no  doubt  but  that  we  shall  soon  stand 
on  firmer  ground,"  continued  the  governor.  "Has 
Lady  Marmaduke  informed  you  of  what  I  intend 
you  to  do?" 

"In  part,"  I  answered. 

"The  matter  as  it  stands  at  present  is  as  follows. 
At  noon  yesterday  a  ship  was  sighted  coming  into 
the  bay.  As  is  our  custom  always  upon  the  arrival 
of  a  ship,  a  welcome  gun  was  fired  from  the  Battery. 
Instead  of  coming  up  to  the  city  like  an  honest 
trader,  the  ship  cast  anchor  and  has  remained  in 
one  place  ever  since.  She  is  a  suspicious  looking 
craft,  probably  a  buccaneer  who  is  afraid  to  enter 
the  port  now  that  the  laws  are  so  stringent  against 
them.    It  may  be  one  chance  in  a  hundred — " 

"I  should  say  one  in  ten  or  two,"  interrupted 
Lady  Marmaduke. 

"By  your  gracious  leave,"  answered  the  Earl  with 


118    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

a  courtly  bow.  "The  chances  are  even  that  the 
ship  is  here  to  communicate  with  Patroon  Van 
Volkenberg.  If  you  are  willing  to  help  me,  what  I 
want  you  to  do  is  this :  To  be  ready  at  a  moment's 
notice  to  keep  an  eye  on  any  sailors  who  may  put 
off  from  the  ship,  for  the  purpose  of  coming  into 
the  town.  I  shall  cause  a  sharp  lookout  to  be  kept 
and  send  you  instant  notice  of  their  arrival." 

We  soon  made  all  the  necessary  arrangements  in 
order  to  carry  out  this  plan.  The  Earl  did  not  ex- 
pect any  one  to  come  ashore  from  the  stranger  ship 
before  night.  He  knew,  however,  that  I  should  be 
prepared  to  act  quickly  when  the  moment  for  action 
came.  He  gave  me  a  key  that  would  enable  me  to 
come  and  go  in  the  fort  at  will,  but  told  me  not  to 
make  use  of  it  unless  in  absolute  necessity.  He 
also  gave  me  another  key  to  the  private  postern 
that  opened  through  the  wall  of  palisades  on  the 
west  side  of  the  city  next  the  Hudson  River.  I  had 
a  few  additional  preparations  to  make  on  my  own 
account  and  engaged,  when  they  were  done,  to 
remain  at  Marmaduke  Hall  till  sent  for  by  the  Earl. 
I  attended  Lady  Marmaduke  back  to  her  coach  and 
bade  her  farewell  for  the  time  being  at  the  gate  of 
the  fort. 

''I  have  business  on  the  Slip,"  I  said  when  she 
was  seated. 

Her  eyebrows  lifted  in  curiosity.    "What  is  it?" 
she  asked. 


MY  FIRST  COMMISSION  119 

I  wondered  to  myself  who  was  jealous  now  of 
plotting  without  her  knowledge. 

"I  must  learn  my  way  about  the  city." 

"Nothing  else?" 

"And  obtain  some  sort  of  disguise." 

"Anything  else?" 

"That  is  all  I  think  of." 

"Ah,  very  well.  Be  back  in  time  to  dine  with 
me.  I  do  not  like  to  sit  alone  when  there  is  news 
in  the  air." 

We  set  out  on  our  several  ways.  I  had  not  felt 
in  such  good  spirits  for  many  a  day.  The  likeli- 
hood of  danger,  the  opportunity  to  do  something, 
above  all,  a  good  horse  between  my  legs,  put  me 
in  countenance  again  and  joyed  me  in  spite  of  fate. 

Pierre,  my  acquaintance  of  the  day  before,  was  a 
barber.  I  set  out  for  his  shop  immediately  upon 
leaving  Lady  Marmaduke.  I  found  him  alone  and 
explained  to  him  that  I  was  employed  on  important 
business,  and  that  he  must  make  haste  to  procure 
me  a  suit  of  clothes  in  which  I  could  disguise  my- 
self as  a  sailor.  Instead  of  setting  about  the  task 
which  I  thus  imposed  upon  him,  he  made  a  comical 
gesture  of  dismay  and  stood  fast  where  he  was. 

"It's  of  no  use,"  he  said.  "The  Red  Band  will 
see  me.  They  watch  everywhere.  If  they  see  me 
buying  clothes  and  get  a  look  at  what  they  are  like, 
where  will  be  the  use  of  the  disguise?" 

I  reflected  a  moment,  for  what  he  said  had  some 


120        PAT  ROOM  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

show  of  truth  in  it.  After  a  moment's  thought, 
however,  I  concluded  that  his  fears  were  idle. 

"Pish,  Pierre!  You  are  too  cautious.  Do  as  I 
tell  you." 

"I  tell  you  it  cannot  be  done.  They  have  their 
eye  on  you ;  and  now  that  you  have  come  here  they 
will  have  their  eye  on  me.    What  did  I  tell  you?" 

At  that  moment,  a  sailor  of  the  Red  Band  entered 
the  shop  and  asked  to  be  shaved,  Pierre  tried  not 
to  look  surprised  as  he  set  about  the  task.  Once, 
when  he  stood  with  his  razor  in  the  air,  I  saw  the 
fellow's  cheek  go  white  as  the  lather  itself.  Per- 
haps he  was  thinking  of  what  might  happen  if 
Pierre  suspected  what  had  really  brought  him  into 
the  shop.  A  person  while  being  shaved  is  in  an  ill 
position  to  defend  himself  if  the  barber  is  murder- 
ously inclined.  For  all  that,  I  set  the  fellow  down 
as  a  bully  and  a  coward.  The  change  in  his  face 
convinced  me  beyond  a  doubt  that  he  had  come 
there  to  spy.  It  confirmed  what  Pierre  had  said  a 
moment  before  concerning  the  watchfulness  of  the 
Red  Band;  and  it  was  not  to  be  long  before  I  should 
have  another  example  of  their  alert  interest  in  my 
affairs. 

When  Pierre  had  finished  shaving  his  customer, 
the  man  arose  and  adjusted  his  neckband  slowly. 
Then  he  tossed  a  coin  into  the  corner,  I  soon  saw 
that  this  was  but  a  ruse  to  get  Pierre  out  of  the  way 
for  the  visitor  had  a  word  to  say  to  me.  Pierre  went 
after  the  coin,  which  rolled  into  the  farthest  corner^ 


MY  FIRST  COMMISSION  121 

The  sailor,  as  he  passed  me  on  the  way  to  the  door, 
said  in  a  low  voice, 

'The  Red  Band  is  not  asleep.     Beware." 

"Ay,  beware !"  I  flung  back  into  his  teeth  as  he 
went  out  of  the  shop. 

"I  told  you  it  would  not  do,"  said  Pierre,  when  I 
informed  him  of  this  little  episode.  He  put  the 
coin  into  his  mouth  and  bit  it.  "This  is  good 
money.  That  is  more  than  I  expected.  Now  what 
do  you  intend  to  do?" 

I  confessed  that  I  was  wholly  at  a  loss  and  should 
depend  upon  his  judgment  this  time. 

"Then  I  shall  help  you  out,  I  have  the  very 
thing  you  want  up  stairs." 

"Why  did  you  not  say  so  at  first?" 

Pierre  laughed.  "You  said  that  I  must  go  out 
and  buy  it  and  I  wanted  to  convince  you  that  you 
were  wrong  first." 

It  was  now  my  turn  to  laugh  at  Pierre's  manner 
of  doing  things.  I  bade  him  take  his  own  way  of 
procuring  what  I  wanted.  He  wrapped  up  some 
clothes  and  a  couple  of  pistols  in  a  bundle,  telling 
me  that,  as  a  rule,  sailors  did  not  wear  cutlasses 
when  they  came  ashore.  The  custom  was  falling 
out  of  use  now  that  the  laws  against  the  buccaneers 
had  become  so  strict. 

"The  Red  Band  always  wear  swords,"  added 
Pierre.  "That  is  another  reason  why  I  wouldn't 
if  I  were  you." 

Pierre  promised  to  take  the  clothes  to  Marma- 


122    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

duke  Hall  within  the  hour.  I  left  him  engaged 
busily  in  his  shop,  and  rode  forth  into  the  town  in 
order  to  acquaint  myself  as  perfectly  as  possible 
with  the  crooked  streets.  I  had  occupied  enough 
time  in  this  examination  of  the  city  when  I  turned 
my  steps  homeward.  I  was  walking  my  horse 
slowly  up  the  steep  hill  of  Petticoat  Lane  when  I 
heard  a  cry  of  distress  ahead  of  me.  Three  men 
were  having  a  sharp  scuffle  over  the  possession  of 
a  bundle.  One  of  the  men  was  Pierre,  and  I  knew 
the  bundle  must  be  my  disguise.  I  must  protect  it 
at  all  hazards,  for  each  of  the  other  two  wore  the 
red  band  upon  his  sleeve.  I  dashed  spurs  into  my 
horse's  side.  In  two  minutes  I  had  ridden  down 
one  of  the  men,  and  with  a  blow  of  my  fist  sent  the 
other  sprawling  in  the  mud.  Pierre  caught  up  the 
bundle  and  scuttled  away  so  quickly  that  I  hardly 
knew  which  way  he  had  gone.  I  drew  my  sword 
and  dismounted. 

"Get  up,"  I  said  sharply  to  the  fellow  I  had 
knocked  down — the  other  had  already  stumbled  to 
his  feet,  but  he  was  not  good  for  much.  "Get  up," 
I  repeated,  "or  someone  will  think  he  has  found 
the  Red  Band  asleep."  He  got  upon  his  legs, 
grumbling  and  looking  sourly  at  me.  "Beware,"  I 
said,  as  they  turned  away.  "Eat  your  own  word, 
beware."  This  fellow  was  the  very  one  who  had 
defied  me  in  Pierre's  shop.  "Beware,"  I  called  after 
him  again,  for  they  made  such  good  use  of  their 


MY  FIRST  COMMISSION  123 

legs  that  by  this  time  they  were  the  width  of  the 
street  away  from  me. 

When  they  were  gone  I  continued  my  journey, 
much  impressed  by  this  example  of  their  watchful- 
ness. I  was  not  cast  down  by  it,  however,  though 
I  mused  so  deeply  on  the  event  that  I  lost  my  way. 
Before  I  knew  it,  I  found  myself  again  in  the  center 
of  the  town.  I  took  my  bearings  afresh  and  started 
back,  this  time  meeting  with  no  further  confusions 
on  the  way.  While  passing  the  Ferry-House,  I  re- 
membered that  I  had  not  returned  there  the  night 
before  to  occupy  the  room  I  had  engaged.  I  dis- 
mounted and  entered  the  ordinar}'  to  find  the  land- 
lord and  settle  my  score.  I  was  surprised  to  see 
Pierre  at  one  of  the  tables  drinking.  As  soon  as  I 
had  settled  the  reckoning  I  went  across  the  room 
to  speak  to  him. 

"They  didn't  see  It,"  he  said  significantly.  "It  is 
in  your  room  and  you  can  wear  it  safely.  He  told 
me  how  he  had  been  surprised  and  set  upon  sud- 
denly in  the  street.  "You  were  just  like  Lady  Mar- 
maduke  coming  along  when  I  was  ducked.  That 
wine!  Don't  tell  me  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
luck!" 

I  told  Pierre  that  for  the  rest  of  the  day  he  must 
hold  himself  in  readiness  to  do  my  bidding.  "Yes," 
I  answered  to  a  question  he  asked.  "Yes,  it  is 
against  him,  and  you  must  keep  yourself  sober." 

Pierre  tilted  up  his  tankard  and  began  to  pour 
the  beer  in  a  small  stream  upon  the  sanded  floor. 


124   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"I  hate  to  let  it  go,"  he  said,  disconsolately.  "But 
if  it  is  against  him,  I  had  rather  keep  sober." 

He  looked  wistfully  at  the  floor  where  the  beer 
had  drained  off  into  a  thick  layer  of  sand,  leaving 
on  the  surface  only  a  shrunken  mass  of  breaking 
bubbles. 

"Ah  me !"  sighed  Pierre,  rising.  "I'll  wait  in  the 
Marmaduke  kitchen.  I  hope  they  won't  offer  me 
wine.  It  would  bring  tears  to  my  eyes.  But  I'll 
keep  sober,  never  fear." 

I  was  sitting  in  my  little  gable  room  late  that 
afternoon  when  I  received  a  summons  from  Lady 
Marmaduke  to  attend  her.  She  wanted  to  know 
whether  I  should  like  to  go  with  her  on  her  daily 
round  of  inspection  of  the  offices.  I  was  indeed 
glad  of  the  opportunity.  We  visited  the  kitchens 
first,  which  were  large  and  well  appointed.  Mar- 
maduke Hall,  from  top  to  bottom,  contained  fully 
two  score  of  people,  and  all  the  cooking  for  this 
numerous  household  was  done  here.  Beyond  the 
kitchen,  in  a  bare,  clay-floored  outbuilding  was  a 
row  of  great  iron  pots,  each  one  of  which  was  large 
enough  to  boil  an  ox  whole.  Into  one  of  them, 
beneath  which  roared  a  huge  fire  of  logs,  the  ser- 
vants were  lowering  some  bags  of  food  that  were 
to  be  boiled  for  the  live  stock.  I  watched  the  pro- 
cess with  interest.  When  the  ponderous  iron  lid, 
which  rose  and  fell  by  means  of  a  pulley  and  chain, 
was  put  in  place,  the  steam  jetted  out  on  all  sides 
of  it,  rocking  the  lid  with  a  loud  clatter,  and  spurt- 


MY  FIRST  COMMISSION  125 

ing  from  under  the  edge  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel. 

We  passed  thence  to  the  dairy.  Then  we  ex- 
amined the  stables  and  various  other  offices  in  suc- 
cession till  we  reached  the  kennels.  The  thirty  or 
more  hounds  barked  and  yelped  at  the  appearance 
of  their  mistress.  She  patted  them  in  turn  and 
then  we  passed  on. 

"You  may  wonder  at  my  attending  to  such 
things  myself,"  she  said  to  me  when  we  had  re- 
turned to  the  Hall.  Then  she  sighed.  *T  try  to  do 
everything  myself  just  as  Sir  Evelin  used  to  do." 

She  fell  into  a  reverie  and  did  not  seem  to  notice 
when  I  left  her.  With  one  thing  and  another  I 
whiled  away  the  time  till  dinner  was  over,  and  it 
had  fallen  quite  dark  outside.  Then,  just  as  I  was 
beginning  to  grow  impatient,  came  the  summons 
from  the  Earl.  It  was  but  a  line  and  was  dated 
from  the  fort  at  half  past  seven. 

"Four  suspicious  looking  sailors  have  just  pro- 
ceeded to  the  Ferry-House.  I  think  they  are  the 
men  we  spoke  of.  You  will  watch  them  and  report 
as  soon  as  possible. — Bellamont." 

I  slipped  on  my  disguise,  thrust  the  two  pistols 
Captain  Tew  had  given  me  into  my  belt,  and,  tak- 
ing Pierre  with  me,  set  out  through  the  dark  streets 
to  the  tavern. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE    ESCAPE   FROM   THE    RATTLE-WATCH 

Within  a  few  minutes  after  leaving  Marmaduke 
Hall  I  arrived  at  the  Ferry-House  alone,  having 
stationed  Pierre  in  a  dark  court-yard  across  the 
street.  I  looked  in  through  the  door  and  saw  the 
four  sailors  huddled  close  together  around  one  of 
the  tables.  They  talked  in  careful  whispers  with 
their  heads  close  together  as  men  are  wont  to  do 
when  they  are  engaged  in  underhand  business. 
'From  time  to  time  they  glanced  uneasily  about  the 
room,  as  if  they  thought  that  someone  should  be 
watching.  When  I  came  near  them,  they  seemed  to " 
suspect  my  presence  in  the  first  breath.  I  tried  to 
draw  them  into  conversation,  but  succeeded  no 
better  than  if  I  had  spoken  in  a  foreign  tongue. 
One  after  another  of  them,  as  he  could  find  an  op- 
portunity, managed  to  slip  away  to  some  other  part 
of  the  room;  soon  I  was  sitting  quite  lonely  and 
deserted  at  the  table  where  I  had  joined  them. 
They,  however,  had  their  heads  close  together  again 
and  were  in  conversation  in  another  part  of  the 
room.  I  made  a  feint  at  yawning,  put  my  feet  on 
the  table,  folded  my  hands,  and  in  five  minutes,  for 
all  they  knew,  I  was  fast  asleep.  In  reality,  I  was 
listening  with  both  my  ears  and  squinting  through 
my  half  shut  eyes  to  see  what  they  were  doing. 

126 


ESCAPE  FROM  RATTLE-WATCH      127 

They  took  care  at  first  that  I  should  not  hear  a 
word  of  what  they  said;  but  by  degrees,  thinking,  I 
suppose,  that  I  was  asleep,  they  grew  more  careless 
in  their  speech.  For  all  that,  I  could  learn  only  that 
they  were  to  keep  an  appointment  somewhere  at 
nine  o'clock  that  night.  They  glanced  often  and 
so  anxiously  at  the  clock  that  I  knew  the  meeting 
must  be  of  considerable  importance.  Before  long 
they  ceased  talking  altogether;  then  they  fell  to 
dozing  in  their  chairs. 

When  I  saw  that  they  were  not  likely  to  notice 
my  absence,  I  left  the  room.  I  walked  along  Gar- 
den Street  towards  the  new  Dutch  church  for  the 
distance  of  fifty  yards;  then  I  crossed  to  the  shadow 
side  of  the  thoroughfare  and  retraced  my  steps. 
Opposite  the  Ferry-House  is  a  narrow  alley  that 
leads  into  a  court-yard.  It  was  in  this  passage,  dark 
as  pitch,  that  I  had  stationed  Pierre.  I  turned  in 
when  I  reached  the  entrance  along  which  I  groped 
my  way  with  one  hand  on  the  wall  and  the  other 
raised  to  shield  my  face, 

"St,"  I  said  cautiously.  Pierre  answered  with 
the  same  signal.  I  took  two  more  steps  in  the  dark, 
and  then  my  outstretched  hand  touched  him. 

"Pierre,"  I  said.  "They  are  in  there,  but  I  can- 
not make  them  say  a  word.  Go  quickly  and  rouse 
the  rattle-watch.  These  fellows  must  be  taken  up. 
I'll  make  some  sort  of  disturbance  against  your 
coming  back  to  color  the  arrest  with.  As  soon  as 
the  watchmen  have  started,  run  as  fast  as  your  legs 


128        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

will  carry  you  and  let  me  know  that  they  are  on 
the  way." 

When  Pierre  set  out  along  Broad  Street,  I  re- 
turned to  my  seat  in  the  ordinary  where  I  intended 
to  resume  my  watch  till  his  return.  My  absence,  I 
thought,  had  not  been  noticed  by  the  sailors.  I 
settled  myself  quietly,  well  satisfied  with  the  way 
things  were  going.  Nothing,  however,  was  further 
from  my  intention  than  my  proposal  to  arrest  these 
men.  In  fact,  I  intended  to  outwit  the  rattle-watch, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  I  had  summoned  it. 

By  the  time  Pierre  returned  all  out  of  breath  to 
announce  the  approach  of  the  watch,  the  clock  had 
crept  round  to  half  past  eight.  The  ofificers  of  the 
watch,  Pierre  informed  me,  were  not  more  than  the 
space  of  two  streets  away.  I  rose  instantly  and  ap- 
proached the  sailors. 

**May  I  speak  to  you  a  moment?"  I  said  in 
feigned  excitement  to  him  who  seemed  to  be  their 
leader.  He  arose,  rather  fearful,  as  if  he  shared  my 
assumed  alarm,  and  stepped  with  me  towards  the 
corner  of  the  room.  I  said  to  him:  **You  come 
from  the  ship  that  anchored  in  the  lower  bay  yes- 
terday?" 

"Who  told  you?"  he  blurted  out.  Then,  seeing 
that  he  had  made  a  mistake,  he  blundered  still  fur- 
ther in  his  attempt  to  contradict  himself.  "No,  by 
God,  we  don't !" 

"I  thought  so,"  I  answered,  for  his  manner  said 


ESCAPE  FROM  RATTLE-WATCH      129 

"Yes,"  though  his  words  said  "No."  I  continued: 
"Is  it  a  free-trader?" 

The  fellow  turned  white,  his  lips  quivered,  and 
his  hand  sought  the  butt  of  his  pistol. 

"Softly,  friend,  you  have  no  enemy  to  deal  with," 
I  said.  "I  have  been  in  the  jolly  trade  myself. 
Look  at  this." 

I  threw  open  my  blouse  part  way  and  gave  him 
a  glimpse  of  one  of  the  richly  mounted  pistols  that 
Captain  Tew  had  presented  to  me. 

"Have  you  ever  seen  that  name  before?" 

His  eyes  gleamed  recognition  as  he  read  the  buc- 
caneer's name  engraved  in  big  letters  on  the  hilt. 
"Ay,  we  sighted  him  two  days  ago." 

"Quite  true.  Bound  for  Martinique.  I  thought 
you  would  know  the  name.  Now  will  you  trust 
me?  You  have  been  suspected  and  even  now  the 
city  of^cers  are  almost  here  to  arrest  you  and  your 
companions." 

At  that  moment  the  shrill  rattle  of  the  watch- 
man's whistle  sounded  from  the  street  outside.  The 
person  who  blew  it  may  have  meant  to  give  them 
some  chance  to  escape,  for  the  free-booters  were 
prime  favorites  with  all  who  were  not  strictly  ad- 
dicted to  honorable  practices.  However  good  the 
guard's  intention  might  be,  I  was  not  willing  to 
allow  my  new  acquaintances  to  profit  by  it.  I  was 
bound  to  have  for  myself  the  credit  of  saving  the 
buccaneers.  Their  gratitude  might  be  of  service 
tome. 


130    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"Hurry,"  I  said.  "We  must  barricade  this  corner 
of  the  room." 

Quick  as  thought  I  overturned  two  of  the  tables. 
All  five  of  us  began  to  pile  up  the  other  furniture. 
The  landlord  gaped  in  open-mouthed  amazement 
at  our  proceeding.  Whatever  leniency  may  have 
been  in  the  watchman's  mind  at  the  moment  he 
blew  his  warning  whistle  in  the  street,  it  all  van- 
ished as  soon  as  he  entered  the  room.  For  he  and 
his  men  had  no  sooner  crowded  through  the  door 
than  I  hurled  a  heavy  pewter  tankard  at  the  leader's 
portly  belly.  It  struck  well  and  sent  him  sprawling 
on  the  floor. 

"Quick,"  I  said  to  the  pirates.    "Follow  me." 

The  corner  of  the  room  that  was  enclosed  by  our 
barricade  contained  a  door  that  opened  on  Garden 
.Street  near  the  church.  We  made  our  way  out  in 
this  way  and  then  set  out  across  the  town  towards 
the  North  River.  We  had  hardly  cleared  the  front 
of  the  tavern  when  we  heard  the  rapid  steps  of  the 
watchmen  coming  after  us  pell-mell.  We  ran  on 
till  the  high  wall  of  palisades  along  the  river  bank 
rose  in  front  of  us.  They  seemed  to  cut  off  all 
escape  in  that  direction,  and  I  do  not  wonder  that 
the  sailors  thought  I  had  betrayed  them. 

"You  have  trapped  us,"  hissed  one  of  them  be- 
tween his  teeth.  At  the  same  moment  he  drew  his 
pistol. 

"Go  on,"  I  shouted.  "Turn  to  the  left.  There  is 
a  gate." 


ESCAPE  FROM  RATTLE-WATCH      131 

We  continued  our  way  along  the  ditch  behind 
the  wall,  running  at  the  top  of  our  speed.  The 
steps  of  the  watchmen  sounded  closer  and  closer  be- 
hind us.  My  companions,  being  sailors,  and  con- 
sequently poor  runners,  were  continually  losing 
ground.  I  feared  we  should  be  caught  up  with  and 
I  had  no  mind  for  a  fight.  That  was  more  than  I 
had  bargained  for.  But  luck  favored  us.  We  soon 
reached  the  postern  that  opens  through  the  palis- 
ades to  the  rocky  bank  of  the  river.  Our  pursuers 
were  scarce  fifty  feet  behind  us.  If  the  key  would 
not  fit  we  were  lost.  But  all  happened  to  our  ad- 
vantage. In  a  moment  I  had  thrust  in  the  key 
that  Governor  Bellamont  had  given  me.  The  lock 
clicked.  We  sprang  through  the  open  gateway  and 
managed  to  relock  the  gate  just  as  the  officers 
dashed  against  it.  But  the  door  was  of  solid  oak 
and  held  fast. 

"That  was  a  good  turn,"  said  the  leader,  mopping 
his  face.    "I'm  sweating  in  every  inch  of  me." 

"This  chill  wind  will  soon  stop  that,"  I  answered. 
"Where  did  you  leave  your  boat?" 

Fortunately  they  had  left  it  afloat  in  the  care  of 
one  of  their  comrades.  They  whistled  to  him  and 
in  a  few  minutes  I  heard  the  squeaking  of  oars  as 
the  boat  approached.  The  leader  of  the  band  put 
out  his  hand,  saying  all  sorts  of  things  in  gratitude 
for  what  I  had  done.  It  made  me  feel  ashamed  to 
hear  his  profuse  thanks,  for,  after  all,  I  had  played 


132        PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

him  a  trick  in  my  own  interest;  but  I  steeled  my 
heart  by  thinking  of  the  patroon. 

*'I  don't  know  who  you  are,"  continued  the 
sailor.  "But  now  that  you  have  done  me  one  good 
turn  perhaps  you  will  do  me  another.  We  must  be 
at  Wolfert  Webber's  tavern  by  nine  o'clock  to- 
night.   Can  we  get  there?" 

It  was  well  for  the  success  of  my  plans  that  I  had 
spent  a  large  part  of  the  afternoon  studying  a  map 
of  Manhattan  Island. 

I  knew,  therefore,  that  a  stream  of  water  of  depth 
sufficient  to  float  a  long-boat  connected  the  small 
lake  known  as  the  Collect  with  the  North  River.  I 
told  the  pirate  of  this  stream  and  that,  after  having 
crossed  the  lake,  a  short  walk  would  bring  him  to 
Webber's  tavern. 

Meanwhile  the  long-boat  was  approaching  the 
shore.  Soon  we  were  all  seated — I  going  along  to 
point  out  the  way — and  four  of  the  sailors  were 
pulling  sturdily  at  the  oars.  We  shot  quickly  over 
the  water.  The  half  moon  gleamed  in  a  flickering 
path  behind  us.  Between  the  narrow  banks  of  the 
stream  by  which  we  made  our  way  into  the  Collect 
scarcely  a  ray  of  light  could  penetrate.  We  had 
much  ado  to  evade  the  overhanging  branches, 
which,  in  spite  of  all  our  care,  struck  us  in  the  face 
time  and  again.  Then  everything  changed  like 
scenery  on  the  stage  as  we  shot  into  the  shadow- 
rimmed  lake,  smooth  as  glass,  reflecting  the  moon 


ESCAPE  FROM  RATTLE-WATCH      133 

like  the  half  of  a  broken  plate,  lying  upon  the 
bottom. 

"Dip  easy,  men,"  whispered  the  leader,  who  had 
seated  himself  next  to  me  in  the  stern  of  the  boat. 
''No  need  to  let  anyone  know  that  we  are  coming." 

He  and  I  had  fallen  into  conversation  while  the 
others  rowed.  I  tried  cautiously  to  win  from  him 
some  information  as  to  what  his  errand  was  about. 
I  succeeded,  however,  no  better  than  when  I  had 
made  the  like  attempt  earlier  in  the  evening.  He 
was  as  mum  as  a  stone  concerning  his  own  business. 
When  we  landed  on  a  narrow  beach  of  pebbles,  he 
commanded  his  followers  to  remain  with  the  boat 
while  he  went  forward  under  my  guidance.  On  the 
way  I  was  of  two  minds.  At  one  moment  I  wanted 
to  strike  him  down,  rob  him  of  his  letters,  and  take 
to  my  heels.  At  the  next,  I  was  much  ashamed  of 
such  a  dishonorable  impulse.  My  hesitation,  how- 
ever, was  soon  overcome  in  an  unexpected  way. 
When  I  saw  the  hght  of  Webber's  tavern  twinkling 
a  hundred  yards  ahead  of  us,  I  informed  my  com- 
panion that  his  destination  was  in  sight.  He  put 
out  a  great  clumsy  hand  and  took  mine  cordially. 

"Thanks,  mate,  whatever  your  name  is.  Here 
you  and  I  must  part  company.  You've  done  us  a 
good  turn,  and  I'd  do  the  same  by  you  if  I  had  the 
chance.  But  I  must  go  on  alone,  for  what  I've  got 
to  say  is  very  secret  and  must  be  said  alone.  It 
ain't  as  if  I  had  some  writing  that  I  could  just  hand 
over  before  your  eyes  and  you  none  the  wiser  for 


134        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

looking  at  the  outside.  It  doesn't  look  handsome, 
does  it?  But  I'm  on  other  people's  business,  and 
honor  is  honor,  as  you  know  yourself." 

Since  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  staying 
with  him  against  his  will,  I  shook  hands  in  a  friendly 
way,  saying  that  I  should  go  back  to  New  York  by 
land,  it  being  nearer  for  me  than  the  way  we  had 
come.  The  moment  he  was  gone,  however,  I  took 
after  him  and  set  myself  to  watch  the  tavern  door. 
The  person  he  had  come  to  meet  had  evidently  ar- 
rived before  him.  In  two  minutes  the  sailor  came 
out  again,  accompanied  by  a  boy.  As  they  passed 
through  a  patch  of  moonlight  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  this  second  person.  He  was  not  a  boy  at  all,  but 
Van  Volkenberg's  drawf,  Louis  Van  Ramm. 

They  passed  close  to  me  and  I  followed  them  a 
short  way  into  the  woods,  where  they  held  a  long 
whispered  consultation;  but  I  could  not  catch  a 
word  of  what  they  said.  At  the  end  of  their  talk 
they  parted  company  without  returning  to  the 
tavern.  The  pirate  went  back  to  the  boat  the  way 
he  had  come;  the  dwarf  set  out  towards  Van  Vol- 
kenberg  manor.  I  had  no  further  interest  in  the 
sailor,  and,  though  I  expected  little  gain  from  fol- 
lowing Van  Ramm,  I  resolved  to  dog  his  footsteps. 


CHAPTER  XII 

VAN  VOLKENBERG'S  WINDOW 

Louis  Van  Ramm  continued  his  way  towards  the 
manor-house,  walking  rapidly,  I  following  on 
the  turf  at  the  roadside.  Suddenly  I  came  upon  the 
place  where  I  had  joined  the  high  road  in  my  retreat 
from  the  park  the  night  before.  Knowing  that 
the  path  that  led  to  this  point  was  a  short  cut 
through  the  woods,  I  ran  along  it  in  the  hope  of 
finding  some  place  of  vantage,  whence  I  could 
observe  what  went  on  outside  the  manor-house. 
When  I  reached  the  edge  of  the  wood  I  saw  the 
shadowy  building,  its  front  all  shot  with  lighted 
windows.  One  of  these  windows  was  on  the  lower 
floor  near  the  ground.  I  wondered  whether  it 
w^ould  offer  me  any  advantage  as  a  means  of  dis- 
covering what  W'as  going  on  inside  the  building. 
Some  high  bushes  grew  near  it  and  in  these  I  man- 
aged to  conceal  myself  so  near  the  window  that  I 
could  see  inside  quite  well.  I  presume  that  the  fire 
of  logs  within  mede  the  room  too  hot,  for  the  win- 
dow was  open,  in  spite  of  the  chill  wind  that  bit  me 
to  the  bone.  The  patroon  was  sitting  at  a  table  in 
plain  sight  of  the  window.  Between  him  and  the 
door  and  facing  him  was  the  w^oman  I  had  seen  the 
night  before  on  the  terrace,  evidently  his  daughter. 

135 


136        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"Go  to  your  room,  Miriam,"  I  heard  him  say  to 
her.  "I  have  no  use  for  you  here.  As  for  this  man 
Le  Bourse,  if  you  have  any  dealings  with  him  I 
shall  lock  you  up.    Go.    Do  you  hear  me?" 

The  girl  did  not  move.  She  folded  her  arms 
across  her  breast,  at  the  same  time  drawing  herself 
up  proudly.  She  was  tall  and  slender,  and  of  a  fine, 
dignified  figure. 

"Father,"  she  replied,  "there  is  no  use  threaten- 
ing me.  You  know  that  I  am  not  a  coward.  If 
you  do  not  intend  to  make  some  reparation  to  this 
man  who  has  come  to  seek  his  sister,  I  shall.  You 
can  at  least  be  kind  to  him.  You  know  only  too 
well  that  unkindness  here  hastened,  perhaps  caused, 
the  poor  girl's  unhappy  death." 

She  brushed  her  hand  across  her  eyes.  I  blessed 
her  in  my  heart  for  that  little  act.  The  patroon, 
however,  grew  angry.  He  lifted  a  wine  glass  from 
the  table  and  held  it  in  his  hand,  as  if  he  intended 
to  throw  it  at  her. 

"Do  not  talk  to  me  of  her,"  he  burst  out.  "Not 
a  word  of  her  or  you  shall  repent  it.  Now  go.  You 
have  already  seen  too  much  of  this  man.  I  shall  not 
tolerate  it." 

The  girl  bowed  with  proper  dignity,  but  she  did 
not  move.  She  had  still  a  word  of  protest  that 
must  be  said. 

"I  shall  obey  you,  sir,  but  I  must  say  what  I  feel. 
I  shall  not  act  behind  your  back.  You  shall  know 
exactly  what  I  intend  to  do.    I  shall  see  him  again 


VAN  VOLKENBERG'S  WINDOW       137 

and  tell  him  all  I  can  of  the  miserable  fate  of  his 
sister  and  I  shall  do  all  in  m.y  power  to  sooth  his 
sorrow.    I  loved  Ruth  even  if  she  was  but — " 

Her  words  were  cut  short  by  the  crash  of  break- 
ing glass.  She  had  sprung  to  one  side  just  in  time 
to  evade  the  flying  goblet  which  her  father  hurled 
at  her. 

"Will  you  not  obey  me?  Are  you  not  my  daugh- 
ter?" 

"I  am  you  daughter,  but  for  all  that,  father — " 

She  stopped  speaking  and  left  the  room  abruptly, 
for  at  that  moment  another  door  was  opened,  w^hich 
I  could  not  see,  though  I  heard  the  latch  click  dis- 
tinctly. Then  Louis  Van  Ramm  entered  the  room 
and  came  to  his  master's  side.  I  heard  the  patroon 
say  something  to  him  about  the  "Wench,  my 
daughter."  Then  he  and  the  dwarf  fell  to  talking 
in  tones  so  low  that  I  could  only  hear  now  and  then 
an  excited  exclamation  of  surprise. 

I  can  hardly  express  the  feelings  that  I  experi- 
enced at  that  moment.  From  where  I  crouched  in 
the  shrubbery,  shivering  with  cold,  I  could  look 
upon  the  wdde  space  where  I  had  seen  the  Red 
Band  drilHng  the  night  before,  surrounded  by  the 
jumping  shadows  of  the  torches.  The  picture  of 
the  girl  dressed  in  white,  standing  upon  the  plat- 
form while  the  troopers  obeyed  the  commands  of 
their  chief,  and  the  impatient  gesture  with  which 
she  had  been  dismissed  by  her  father,  were  all  clear 
in  my  mind's  eye.     I  had  not  thought  then  that 


138        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

within  a  day  I  should  have  found  a  friend  within 
the  walls  of  the  manor.  Yet  such  was  the  case. 
The  girl  was  disposed  to  treat  me  kindly.  I  did 
not  care  so  much  for  that.  My  heart  was  drawn 
towards  her  because  she  had  loved  Ruth,  and  be- 
cause she  was  now  suffering  for  that  affection.  I 
could  not  but  admire  her  spirit,  and  the  quiet  dig- 
nity with  which  she  stood  to  her  convictions  before 
the  hot  anger  of  her  parent;  nor  could  I  observe 
without  still  greater  admiration  the  noble  pride 
that  prompted  her  to  be  silent  the  moment  another 
person  entered  the  room.  Of  course  I  did  not  know 
then  as  I  knew  later  how  unlike  her  usual  manner 
this  severity  towards  her  father  was.  But  I  soon 
learned  that  there  were  moments  when  his  peculiar 
infirmity  demanded  such  firmness  and  that  this  was 
one  of  them. 

While  I  mused  upon  the  scene  before  me  and  ail 
it  stood  for,  the  patroon  and  his  retainer  sat  at  the 
table  in  busy  conversation.  At  last  Van  Volken- 
berg  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  fitted  the  palms 
of  his  hands  together,  tapping  the  finger  tips 
slightly. 

"Good  news,  Louis,"  he  said,  for  the  first  time 
raising  his  voice  so  that  I  could  hear  him  distinctly. 
"This  time  we  trip  the  Earl,  God's  curse  upon  him." 

For  a  moment  they  sat  silent,  the  master  lost  in 
thought.  Evidently  the  news  communicated  to 
Louis  in  the  meeting  by  Webber's  tavern  was  vitally 
connected  with  the  welfare  of  the  Earl  of  Bella- 


VAN  VOLKEN BERG'S  WINDOW       139 

mont.  At  last  Van  Volkenberg  was  roused  by 
some  question  from  his  companion  that  I  could 
not  hear. 

"You  are  right,"  the  patroon  answered.  "On  my 
life  we  must  not  let  this  chance  slip.  Before  day- 
light— "  I  lost  what  followed,  for  he  bent  over  the 
table  with  a  pen  in  his  hand  and  began  to  write. 

For  some  time  I  watched  the  end  of  the  quill 
nodding  back  and  forth  as  he  wrote,  evidently  in 
great  haste  and  excitement.  Twice  he  tore  the 
paper  across  several  times  and  began  to  write  upon 
a  new  sheet.  When  he  had  finished,  he  rose,  fold- 
ing what  he  had  written  carefully  as  he  did  so.  He 
took  a  step  or  two  away  from  the  table  towards  the 
window.  This  movement  brought  him  so  close  to 
me  that  I  overheard  what  followed  without  diffi- 
culty. 

"This  must  be  printed  and  posted  before  day- 
light, Louis.  Take  it  to  Bradford.  Rout  him  out 
of  bed.  Give  him  good  reasons.  It  must  be  done 
at  once.  Do  not  take  no  from  him.  Hurry,  Louis, 
my  gay  hawk.  We  shall  peck  the  fine  Earl  to  the 
bone  by  noon  to-morrow." 

At  that  both  men  left  the  apartment.  I  set  out 
immediately  along  the  footpath  that  joined  with 
the  road  to  the  city.  I  had  not  far  to  go  in  order  to 
reach  the  main  road,  but  the  distance  was  far 
enough  to  bring  me  for  a  moment  in  peril  of  my 
life.  I  was  still  within  hail  of  the  house  when  I 
heard  dull,  heavy  thuds  falling  in  quick  succession 


140    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

behind  me,  and  growing  louder  with  every  step.  I 
turned  to  look  back.  A  hound  was  making  towards 
me  in  great  leaps  across  the  moonhght.  The  next 
moment  he  sprang  upon  me.  Though  I  braced 
myself  for  the  shock,  I  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 
In  this  moment  of  danger,  I  had  enough  presence 
of  mind  to  thrust  my  hand  into  the  brute's  mouth 
and  to  grip  tight  hold  of  his  lower  jaw.  We  writhed 
and  twisted  about  the  ground  for  several  minutes. 
Once  I  was  knocked'so  violently  against  the  trunk 
of  a  tree  that  it  was  a  miracle  that  I  did  not  lose 
my  hold.  We  rolled  back  together  and  in  some 
way,  I  know  not  how,  I  fell  uppermost  with  the 
point  of  my  knee  on  the  dog's  side.  Quick  as  a 
flash,  I  gripped  my  free  hand  on  his  throat.  He 
gasped  for  breath  till  his  whole  body  shook  and  I 
with  it.  But  I  had  won  the  fall  and  did  not  rise  till 
he  lay  motionless  at  my  feet. 

Such  an  escape  as  that  makes  a  man  sober.  I 
continued  along  the  road,  thinking  of  many  things; 
above  all,  of  how  it  might  have  ended.  By  what  a 
slender  thread  and  how  tenaciously  we  cling  to  life! 
Yesterday,  when  my  sorrow  first  fell  upon  me  with 
its  full  weight,  there  was  nothing  terrible  about  the 
face  of  death;  but  to-night,  with  his  grim  features 
close  before  me,  I  felt  that  heedless  courage  which 
even  the  most  miserable  always  feel,  though  they 
would  thank  God  for  cowardice.  With  this  thought 
came  another:  How  Ruth  must  have  felt!  She 
had  crossed  the  gulf  that  I  had  fought  to  draw 


VAN  VOLKENBERG'S  WINDOW       141 

back  from.  Not  till  then  did  my  thoughts  return 
to  the  work  in  hand — the  paper  and  the  dwarf's 
errand.  Almost  immediately  I  heard  the  clatter  of 
horse  hoofs  breaking  the  silence  behind  me. 

In  a  moment  Louis  Van  Ramm  dashed  by  me  at 
full  gallop,  raising  a  cloud  of  dust  as  he  rode,  and 
sending  a  flaw  of  wind  into  the  roadside  bushes 
where  I  had  concealed  myself  at  the  first  sound  of 
his  approach. 

"So  you  will  trap  the  Earl,  will  you?"  thought  I. 
"Do  not  reckon  without  me,  Louis  Van  Ramm." 

Then  I  set  out  running,  and  was  soon  at  the  fort. 

It  had  been  scarce  six  years  since  William  Brad- 
ford had  come  from  Philadelphia  to  set  up  his  print- 
ing press  in  New  York.  As  I  passed  the  mouth  of 
the  street  where  Bradford  lived  I  could  hear  Louis 
kicking  and  pounding  at  the  printer's  door,  for 
what  reason  beyond  his  master's  best  I  was  soon  to 
learn. 

At  the  fort  I  found  some  difficulty  in  gaining  ac- 
cess to  the  Earl;  but,  by  means  of  the  password 
.which  he  had  communicated  to  me,  and  a  little 
threat  and  bluster  on  my  own  account,  I  was  soon 
inside  the  walls.  The  Earl  heard  my  fragmentary 
tale  with  interest. 

"I  can  easily  imagine  what  has  been  communi- 
cated to  him,"  said  Bellamont.  "But  what  Brad- 
ford has  to  do  with  it  is  beyond  my  penetration." 

He  rang  a  bell  upon  the  table.    A  man-at-arms 


142        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

appeared,  whom  he  bade  summon  the  captain  of 
the  guard. 

"Take  a  squad  of  men,"  commanded  the  Earl  as 
soon  as  the  man  had  appeared  for  duty.  "Take  a 
squad  of  men  and  arrest  William  Bradford  and  any- 
one else  whom  you  may  find  at  his  shop.  At  once. 
To  your  duty." 

The  Earl  at  a  pinch,  as  Lady  Marmaduke  had 
said,  was  no  man  to  bandy  words,  though,  to  be 
sure,  he  said  to  me  as  soon  as  the  soldiers  had  set 
out  that  he  wished  I  had  got  my  information  in  any 
other  way  than  spying.  I  did  not  remind  him  that 
he  had  set  me  to  watch,  or  that  there  was  no  other 
way  on  earth  by  which  I  could  have  followed  his 
instructions,  for  I  knew  that  if  I  said  anything  his 
conscience  would  suggest  some  kind  of  harmless 
watchfulness  from  a  distance. 

"Your  Excellency's  welfare  is  always  above  my 
own,"  I  said  humbly,  though  I  shared  none  of  his 
scruples. 

"Ay,  doubtless,"  he  answered  musingly.  "Well, 
let  us  see  how  it  turns  out." 

Thirty  minutes  later  the  prisoner  was  under  ar- 
rest in  the  fort.  The  Earl's  eyes  gleamed  with 
satisfaction  over  the  intelligence  he  had  received 
through  the  arrest.  For  the  second  time  he  sum- 
moned the  man-at-arms. 

"As  soon  as  it  is  late  enough  I  want  you  to  dis- 
patch a  messenger  to  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg, 
and  to  the  other  members  of  my  council,  notifying 


VAN  VOLKENBERG'S  WINDOW       143 

them  individually  that  there  will  be  a  meeting  of 
my  privy-council  at  ten  o'clock  to-morrow."  Then 
he  turned  to  me.  "The  clouds  are  breaking,  Le 
Bourse.  I  doubt  not  there  will  be  a  flash  of  light 
and  a  clap  of  thunder  hard  upon  ten  o'clock." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

VAN   VOLKENBERG  IN   DISGRACE 

'At  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  the  governor's 
privy-council  was  assembled.  The  members  of  the 
board  were  seated  along  both  sides  of  a  huge  ma- 
hogany table,  carved  around  the  edges  in  the  old 
Dutch  style.  Governor  Bellamont  sat  at  one  end 
of  the  table;  on  his  right  hand  was  Colonel  De 
Peyster,  then  accorded  by  everyone  the  handsomest 
man  in  the  province.  At  the  end  opposite  to 
Nicholas  Bayard  sat  the  patroon.  He  was  quiet  in 
his  manner  and  evidently  much  dejected  over  the 
miscarriage  of  his  plan,  though,  as  yet,  he  could 
have  had  no  idea  as  to  how  it  had  gone  wrong. 
When  the  soldiers  arrested  Bradford,  they  found 
him  alone,  busily  engaged  in  setting  up  type  with 
which  to  print  the  patroon's  paper.  By  the  time 
the  arrest  was  made,  Louis  Van  Ramm  had  evi- 
dently returned  to  the  manor-house  to  inform  his 
chief  that  all  the  arrangements  necessary  to  the 
plan  had  been  successfully  made.  The  patroon 
therefore,  on  his  arrival  in  the  town,  must  have 
expected  to  see  his  posters  placed  conspicuously 
in  many  public  places.  He  found  instead,  only  the 
locked  door  of  the  printing  office  and  no  posters. 
Immediately  after  this  disappointment  he  presented 
himself  at  the  council  table  in  the  fort. 

144 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  IN  DISGRACE      145 

The  Earl  of  Bellamont  informed  the  members  of 
his  privy-council  that  he  had  summoned  them  thus 
hurriedly  in  order  to  communicate  to  them  some 
important  information.  Then,  drawing  towards 
him  a  bundle  of  papers  which  lay  close  at  hand,  he 
addressed  his  advisors  in  these  words : 

"'Gentlemen  and  Friends :  Shortly  after  his  most 
gracious  majesty  was  pleased  to  appoint  me  to  the 
governorship  of  this  province,  he  called  me  to  a 
private  interview,  in  which  he  spoke  of  certain  af- 
fairs in  New  York.  He  spoke  in  these  words,  as 
nearly  as  I  could  remember  them  when  I  wrote 
down  the  substance  of  our  conversation  shortly 
after  our  interview. 

"  'The  buccaneers,'  said  his  majesty,  'have  so  in- 
creased in  the  East  and  West  Indies,  and  all  along 
the  American  coast,  that  they  defiantly  sail  under 
their  own  flag.  They  penetrate  the  rivers;  land  in 
numbers  sufflcient  to  capture  cities,  robbing  palaces 
and  cathedrals,  and  extorting  enormous  ransom. 
Their  suppression  is  vital  to  commerce.  They  have 
possessed  themselves  of  magnificent  retreats,  in 
Madagascar  and  other  islands  of  the  Pacific  ocean. 
They  have  established  their  seraglios,  and  are  living 
in  fabulous  splendor  and  luxury.  Piratic  expedi- 
tions are  fitted  out  from  the  colonies  of  New  Eng- 
land and  Virginia;  and  even  the  Quakers  of 
Pennsylvania  afford  a  market  for  their  robberies. 
These  successful  free-booters  are  making  their 
homes  in  the  Carolinas,  in  Rhode  Island,  and  along 


U6        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

the  south  shore  of  Long  Island,  where  they  and 
their  children  take  positions  among  the  most  re- 
spectable in  the  community. 

"  'The  buccaneers  are  so  audacious  that  they  seek 
no  concealment.  Their  ships  are  laden  with  the 
spoils  of  all  nations.  The  richest  prizes  that  can 
now  be  taken  upon  the  high  seas  are  the  heavily 
laden  ships  of  the  buccaneers.  I  have  resolved, 
with  the  aid  of  others,  to  fit  out  a  private  expedition 
against  them.  We  have  formed  a  company  for  the 
purpose.  By  attacking  the  pirates  we  shall  accom- 
plish a  double  object.  We  shall,  in  the  first  place, 
check  their  devastating  operations,  and  we  shall 
also  fill  our  purses  with  the  proceeds  of  the  abun- 
dant spoil  with  which  their  ships  are  laden.'  " 

The  Earl  laid  down  the  paper  from  which  he  had 
been  reading,  and,  looking  directly  at  Mr.  Living- 
ston, who  was  on  his  left,  bowed.  "My  trusted 
friend  and  councillor,  who  was  in  London  at  the 
time  of  my  interview  with  our  gracious  majesty,  was 
able  to  recommend  to  our  notice  a  mariner  upon 
whom  we  could  confidently  confer  the  responsible 
task  of  commanding  this  expedition.  You  all  know 
him,  gentlemen.  I  refer  to  the  estimable  William 
Kidd,  of  this  city,  whose  house  on  Liberty  Street 
we  all  remember  because  of  the  noble  tree  growing 
beside  the  stoop.  It  was  planted  to  commemorate 
the  arrival  of  Governor  Petrus  Stuyvesant,  rest  his 
soul,  for  he  was  a  gallant  gentleman  and  a  valiant 
warrior.     In  Captain  Kidd's  hands,  with  the  con- 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  IN  DISGRACE      147j 

sent  of  the  Lord  Chancellor  and  the  Duke  of 
Shrewsbury,  together  with  the  approval  of  the 
King,  we  have  placed  our  frigate,  the  Adventure, 

"Now,  gentlemen,"  continued  the  Earl,  at  the 
same  time  taking  up  another  paper  from  the  table. 
"You  are  aware  of  the  steps  I  have  already  taken  to 
diminish  the  practice  of  buccaneering  in  New  York. 
It  behooves  me  to  make  you  acquainted  forthwith 
with  the  commission  the  King  has  granted  to  Cap- 
tain Kidd." 

Bellamont  unfolded  the  paper  in  his  hand  and 
began  to  read  in  a  loud,  steady  voice  the  King's 
commission. 

"  'William  the  Third,  by  the  grace  of  God,  King 
of  England,  Scotland,  France  and  Ireland,  to  our 
true  and  well-beloved  Captain  William  Kidd,  com- 
mander of  the  Adventure.  Whereas,  divers  wicked 
persons  commit  many  and  great  piracies,  robberies 
and  depredations  on  the  seas,  upon  the  coasts  of 
America,  and  other  parts,  to  the  hindrance  of  trade 
and  the  danger  of  our  subjects,  we  have  thought  fit 
to  give  to  the  said  William  Kidd  full  authority  to 
seize  all  such  pirates  upon  the  seas,  whether  our 
subjects  or  the  subjects  of  other  nations,  with  their 
ships  and  all  merchandise  or  money  which  shall  be 
found  on  board,  if  they  willingly  yield  themselves. 
But  if  they  will  not  yield  themselves  without  fight- 
ing, then  you  are,  by  force,  to  compel  them  to  yield. 
We  do  also  require  you  to  bring,  or  cause  to  be 
brought,  such  pirates,  free-booters,  or  sea  rovers. 


148        PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

as  you  shall  seize,  to  a  legal  trial,  to  the  end  they 
may  be  proceeded  against  according  to  the  law  in 
such  cases. 

"  'We  enjoin  you  to  keep  an  exact  journal  of  your 
proceedings,  giving  the  names  of  the  ships  you  may 
capture,  the  names  of  their  officers  and  crew,  and 
the  value  of  their  cargoes,  and  stores.  And  we  com- 
mand you  at  your  peril,  that  you  do  not  molest  our 
friends  or  allies  under  any  pretense  of  authority 
hereby  granted.  Given  the  26th  of  January, 
169-.'"* 

In  the  discussion  of  the  King's  plan  which  fol- 
lowed the  reading  of  it,  every  gentleman  present, 
with  the  one  exception  of  Van  Volkenberg,  ex- 
pressed his  unqualified  approval  of  what  had  been 
done.  The  patroon,  however,  sat  silent  and  moody. 
He  was  unable  to  imagine  why  the  Earl  had  chosen 
this  time  to  explain  in  detail  a  plan  that  he  had 
heretofore  guarded  with  the  utmost  secrecy. 

"I  am  glad  of  your  approbation,"  said  the  Earl. 
"I  could  expect  no  other  reception  of  this  frank 
expression  (touching  the  King's  commission  with 
his  forefinger)  of  the  honor  and  candor  of  our 
gracious  sovereign  and  of  his  confidential  advisers. 
Yet  it  appears  that  our  colleague,  Patroon  Van 
Volkenberg,  has  not  yet  expressed  his  satisfaction 
in  words." 


*For  the  text  of  Governor  Bellamont's  conversation  with 
the  King,  and  of  the  commission  granted  to  Captain  Kidd, 
the  author  is  indebted  to  Mr.  Abbot's  life  of  William  Kidd. 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  IN  DISGRACE      149 

There  was  a  slight  smile  upon  the  Earl's  face  as 
he  made  this  remark,  for  the  patroon's  manner 
spoke  discontent  plain  enough.  As  all  eyes  turned 
upon  him,  Van  Volkenberg  felt  the  need  of  saying 
something. 

"Your  Excellency,  I  hope,  has  always  found  me 
quick  in  the  support  of  all  our  sovereign's  man- 
dates." 

More  than  one  of  the  persons  present  exchanged 
intelligent  glances  with  his  neighbor  when  he  heard 
this  qualified  approval.  Each  member  of  the  coun- 
cil interpreted  it  for  himself,  according  as  he  be- 
lieved or  disbelieved  certain  vague  rumors  that  had 
got  abroad  concerning  the  patroon's  interest  in  the 
illicit  trade. 

"I  am  glad  that  we  are  unanimous,"  the  Earl 
went  on,  a  bitter  smile  breaking  across  his  face  in 
spite  of  his  effort  to  control  his  features.  "I  say 
that  I  am  glad  we  are  unanimous,  because  I  have  a 
question  to  bring  before  you  for  your  consideration, 
which  closely  concerns  the  matter  in  hand." 

He  glanced  at  the  patroon.  Van  Volkenberg 
for  the  first  time  seemed  to  suspect  that  a  trap  had 
been  laid  for  him.  His  fingers  opened  and  closed 
wdth  short  nervous  movements.  His  face  began  to 
grow  white;  but  it  was  the  whiteness  of  anger,  not 
of  fear.  At  that  moment  I  saw — for  I  had  been  sta- 
tioned where  I  could  both  see  and  hear  what  was 
passing  in  the  council  chamber — I  saw  that  the 
Earl  had  won  only  a  skirmish,  not  a  battle.     The 


150        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

patroon  might  be  defeated  for  the  present,  but  the 
spirit  that  showed  in  his  face  was  not  to  be  crushed 
by  this  blow.  Strangely  enough,  the  Earl's  next 
words  pointed  the  anger  of  the  patroon  in  a  new 
direction,  a  direction  that  in  the  end  almost  brought 
the  Earl  and  his  followers  to  their  ruin. 

"Captain  Kidd,"  the  Earl  resumed,  "is  now  on 
his  way  to  New  York.  His  crew,  which,  at  present, 
is  but  half  made  up,  is  to  be  completed  in  this  city." 

This  was  the  fact  that  was  news  to  the  patroon. 
He  started  and  turned  his  face  with  renewed  interest 
towards  the  governor,  who  continued  in  an  unruf- 
fled voice. 

"A  conspiracy  has  been  nipped  in  the  bud,  gen- 
tlemen— a  conspiracy  tending  to  prevent  honest 
men  from  entering  our  service  and  therefore  tend- 
ing to  diminish  the  integrity  of  Captain  Kidd's 
crew." 

He  paused,  looked  slowly  over  his  audience,  who 
were  breathless  with  interest,  and  let  his  eyes  rest 
upon  Van  Volkenberg. 

"At  midnight  last,  William  Bradford,  the  printer, 
was  arrested  by  my  order.  At  the  time  of  his  arrest 
he  was  engaged  in  putting  into  type  this  paper, 
which  I  shall  now  read  aloud  and  then  give  into 
your  hands  for  further  examination : 

"'CITIZENS  OF  NEW  YORK,  BEWARE! 
Captain  William  Kidd,  famous  for  his  knowledge 
of  the  haunts  and  practices  of  the  buccaneers,  will 
soon  arrive  in  New  York  to  lay  in  stores  and  take 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  IN  DISGRACE      151 

commissions  for  the  South  Seas.  He  sails  under 
cover  of  a  patent,  granted  by  the  Earl  of  Bellamont, 
Governor  of  His  Majesty!s  province  of  New  York, 
granting  him  power  to  cruise  against  the  buc- 
caneers. This  alleged  purpose  is  a  trick  to  deceive 
the  people.  Captain  Kidd's  real  purpose  is  to  co- 
operate with  the  pirates,  to  evade  the  laws  of  the 
province,  and  to  enrich  the  pocket  of  the  governor. 
Beware  how  you  countenance  this  betrayal  of  your 
laws.'  "  Then  the  Earl  added :  "How  inimical  the 
sentiment  expressed  herein  is  to  the  interests  and 
procedure  of  our  royal  master  is  forthwith  apparent. 
Gentlemen,  examine  the  document  for  yourselves.'* 

He  handed  it  to  Mr.  Livingstone,  who  in  turn 
passed  it  on  to  Mr.  Pinhorne.  The  paper  traveled 
slowly  down  the  table.  Suddenly  one  of  the  coun- 
cillors exclaimed,  "By  my  soul !  This  is  Van  Vol- 
kenberg's  hand." 

"And  what  if  it  is?"  the  patroon  cried  out,  at  the 
same  time  bringing  his  fist  down  on  the  table  with 
an  angry  blow. 

There  was  the  silence  of  amazement  at  this  sud- 
den explosion. 

"Do  not  deliberate  hastily,"  said  the  Earl,  with 
a  smile.  "Let  me  make  clear  the  manner  in  which 
this  paper  came  into  my  hands."  He  rang  a  bell  for 
a  servant.     "Fetch  Monsieur  Le  Bourse." 

I  shall  never  forget  the  blank  expression  on  the 
patroon's  face  at  the  moment  I  stepped  into  the 
room  in  obedience  to  the  Earl's  command;  nor 


152        PAT  ROOM  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

shall  I  forget  the  thrill  of  joy  I  experienced  when  I 
saw  that  the  patroon  knew  who  had  driven  him  to 
bay.  I  related  in  as  few  words  as  possible  what 
had  happened  during  the  night,  dwelling  on  the 
damning  evidence  which  my  story  furnished  of  the 
truth  of  the  rumors  that  Van  Volkenberg  had  secret 
dealings  with  the  buccaneers.  When  I  had  finished 
my  tale,  Mr.  Livingstone  rose  and  claimed  the 
floor. 

"Your  Excellency,"  he  said,  "this  is  worse  than 
I  could  have  imagined.  It  is  enough  to  justify  ex- 
pulsion from  the  council." 

"I  shall  not  remain  to  embarrass  your  considera- 
tion," said  the  patroon. 

He  got  upon  his  feet,  ashy  pale,  and  trembling 
with  suppressed  rage,  but  with  a  noble  dignity  in 
his  disgrace  withal. 

"I  acknowledge  your  accusation,"  continued  the 
patroon.  "If  your  clemency  (bowing  to  the  gov- 
ernor), which  is  well  known  to  all  of  us,  will  permit 
a  fallen  man  to  resign  the  honor  of  a  seat  at  your 
council  board  before  he  is  deprived  of  it  by  force, 
I  shall  be  everlastingly  in  your  debt." 

With  that  he  bowed  again,  first  to  the  Earl,  then 
to  the  company,  and  left  the  room. 

For  a  moment,  I,  who  was  the  cause  of  this  dis- 
grace, felt  almost  as  if  the  victory  were  the 
patroon's.  Every  person  present,  even  the  Earl, 
sat  abashed  as  if  he  had  done  something  wrong. 
For  a  moment  I  almost  agreed  with  the  Earl,  and 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  IN  DISGRACE      153 

wished  I  had  not  spied  through  the  window.  How 
nobly  the  patroon  had  sustained  his  defeat !  There 
was  no  storming,  no  begging;  he  simply  accepted 
the  inevitable  and  bowed  with  dignity  in  his  ruin. 
He  was  such  a  man  as  one  would  gladly  serve  if 
he  were  only  upon  the  side  of  right  and  honor. 
Sympathy  with  the  manliness  of  the  patroon,  how- 
ever, soon  gave  way  as  the  consciousness  of  his 
treachery  and  double  dealing  again  grew  uppermost 
in  my  mind.  The  only  lasting  effect  of  this  scene 
upon  me  was  a  deep-seated  joy  such  as  a  man  feels 
when  he  meets  a  worthy  foe.  My  determination 
was  strengthened,  not  weakened,  by  this  short- 
lived attack  of  sympathy  for  my  enemy. 

Meantime  the  patroon  mounted  his  horse  at  the 
entrance  of  the  fort.  Scarcely  was  he  through  the 
massive  stone  gateway  before  a  great  change  came 
over  him.  He  broke  out  into  loud  peals  of  laugh- 
ter. He  clapped  spurs  to  his  horse  and  rode  furi- 
ously to  the  house  of  Colonel  Fletcher.  All  the 
way  from  the  fort  to  the  house  of  his  friend  he  was 
laughing  and  calling  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice  and 
waving  his  arms  about  his  head  like  a  man  taken 
in  a  fit.  An  hour  later  he  was  carried  out  of  the 
house  like  a  sick  man,  deposited  in  a  sedan  chair, 
and  in  this  conveyance  taken  to  his  home. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

PLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  EARL 

Later  in  the  day  of  Van  Volkenberg's  disgrace, 
Lady  Marmaduke  and  I  were  talking  together  in 
no  very  pleasant  frame  of  mind.  We  both  knew  the 
far-reaching  power  of  the  Red  Band,  and  the  ex- 
tremes to  which  the  patroon  would  go  in  order  to 
carry  out  his  designs.  He  now  knew  that  it  was  I 
who  had  brought  his  disgrace  upon  him.  People 
are  always  likely  to  suspect  and  hate  those  whom 
they  have  injured  beyond  repair.  The  death  of 
Ruth  was  enough  to  account  for  any  blow  that  the 
patroon  might  aim  at  me.  Add  to  this  motive  the 
fact  that  I  had  brought  humiliation  upon  him,  that 
I  had  been  the  cause  of  his  expulsion  from  the 
council,  and  one  can  easily  imagine  how  Httle  rea- 
son there  was  to  believe  that  I  should  be  overlooked 
in  his  subsequent  meditations.  The  injury  I  had 
done  to  the  patroon  not  only  held  him  up  to  ridicule 
and  scorn,  but  also,  by  removing  him  from  the  gov- 
ernor's council,  deprived  him  of  his  most  potent 
means  of  plotting  against  the  Earl.  Take  it  all  in 
all,  I  was  treading  in  dangerous  water,  and  both 
Lady  Marmaduke  and  I  knew  it. 

"How  do  you  expect  to  escape  his  vengeance?'* 
she  said  in  a  significantly  despondent  tone.    "How: 

154 


TLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  EARL     155 

will  you  keep  your  head  on  your  shoulders  till  to- 
morrow morning  or  next  day?" 

I  smiled  grimly,  but  made  no  reply  to  her  ques- 
tion. In  fact,  I  was  all  at  sea  as  to  what  to  do,  and 
I  knew  that  she  was  in  the  same  state  of  mind.  For 
several  minutes  there  was  silence  between  us; 
neither  of  us  had  a  word  further  to  say.  Of  a  sud- 
den my  mistress  snapped  her  fingers  and  a  light 
as  of  a  new  idea  began  to  sparkle  in  her  eyes. 

"He  is  a  Catholic,"  she  said.  "I  wish  the  laws 
that  apply  to  priests  would  apply  to  him."  She 
muttered  these  words  half  aloud  as  if  she  was  talk- 
ing to  herself.  But  her  next  sentence  was  addressed 
to  me.  "You  know  that  when  a  Jesuit  priest  steps 
across  the  boundary  of  our  province  we  hang  him. 
That  is  our  law."  She  dropped  her  eyes  again  and 
seemed,  as  before,  to  muse  aloud.  "Poor  little 
Ruth.  Such  sweet,  sweet  eyes;  so  sad.  They  were 
not  sad  at  first — they  grew  sad.  Had  it  been  only 
trouble  that  won  her  young  life  away !  But  to  be 
robbed  of  it  by  a  Roman  Catholic.  If  you  could 
have  seen  her  face,  so  cold  and  pale  when  I  went 
to  see  the  m.ark  of  the  hot  iron !"  She  turned  her 
eyes  towards  me  suddenly.  "Have  you  ever  smelt 
burning  flesh?"  she  demanded. 

"For  God's  sake!"  I  cried.  "You  pierce  me  to 
the  heart." 

Words  cannot  express  the  agony  I  felt  at  this 
mention  of  the  manner  of  my  sister's  death;  but, 


156    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

in  spite  of  my  misery,  Lady  Marmaduke  went  on 
without  pity. 

"He  did  not  brand  her,  but  he  did  worse.  He 
went  to  her  room  at  night  and  murdered  her  in  bed. 
Why?    Because — " 

I  put  out  my  hand  in  a  gesture  of  appeal.  She 
left  the  sentence  unfinished  and  began  anew. 

*'Can  you  not  see,  friend  Michael,  why  I  twist 
this  knife  of  recollection  till  it  galls  you  to  the 
quick?    Le  Bourse,  did  you  love  your  sister?" 

"What  of  that?"  I  answered  hoarsely,  wonder- 
ing why  she  asked  me  such  a  question. 

"Do  you  think  that  you  will  be  able  to  keep  your 
life  in  your  body  for  a  week  now  that  you  have 
given  such  ofifense  to  the  leader  of  the  Red  Band? 
You  hesitate.  Nay,  answer  me  honestly.  Unless 
you  skulk  like  a  coward  and  hide  yourself  inside 
my  house,  how  long  will  you  escape  their  ven- 
geance?" 

I  shook  my  head.  Indeed  there  was  no  limit  of 
time  too  brief  to  suit  the  truth. 

"Did  you  love  your  sister?" 

"Why  do  you  ask  that  question  as  if  you  doubted 
it?"  I  answered  petulantly.  "Do  you  not  know 
that—" 

"Tut,  tut,  I  do  not  doubt  you,  but  I  wonder 
whether  you  will  stand  the  test.  This  is  no  common 
enemy  you  have  to  deal  with.  He  is  a  wily  man 
and  wields  much  power.  By  your  own  reckoning 
your  life  is  not  worth  that."    She  snapped  her  fin- 


PLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  EARL      157 

gers.  "You  must  take  the  game  into  your  own 
hands.  If  you  should  die,  who  would  avenge 
Ruth?" 

"Or  Sir  Evelin?"  I  responded. 

Her  brows  darkened.  A  flush  spread  slowly 
over  her  swarthy  features  like  a  storm  cloud.  I 
knew  that  I  was  standing  before  the  Black  Lady 
Marmaduke,  and  from  that  moment  I  understood 
why  they  had  given  her  that  name.  She  was  the 
very  image  of  deep  passion,  yet  of  passion  that  was 
under  control  withal.  She  was  such  a  leader  as  a 
man  could  trust  himself  to  in  full  confidence  of 
finding  bravery,  loyalty  and — for  I  had  no  doubt 
of  the  result — victory. 

"Yes,"  she  answered.  "Or  Sir  Evelin!  Ruth 
and  Sir  Evelin !  You  and  I  must  keep  alive.  Will 
you  make  a  desperate  cast  for  the  prize?  Will  you 
stake  all  upon  one  bold  throw?" 

The  swift  nervous  clutch  of  her  hand  on  my 
shoulder  which  accompanied  her  last  words,  and  the 
sound  of  her  breath,  hard  and  rasping  like  a  person 
in  a  trance,  told  me  better  than  words  why  she  had 
been  probing  me  to  the  depths  of  my  misery.  I 
knew  that  the  plan  she  was  about  to  propose  would 
be  full  to  the  brim  of  peril. 

"I'll  play  it,"  I  answered,  responding  in  every 
nerve  to  the  spell  of  her  fierce  passions.  "What  is 
the  cast?" 

"Your  life." 

"Explain." 


158        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"You  cannot  live  as  it  is.  Assume  a  disguise. 
Be  someone  else." 

"That  is  easy,  but  to  what  does  it  lead?" 

"To  the  house  of  the  Red  Band.  You  have  still 
the  silver  buttons  that  the  buccaneer  gave  you. 
Take  them  boldly,  according  to  your  first  inten- 
tion, and  present  them  to  the  patroon.  Tell  him 
you  want  to  enlist  in  the  Red  Band.  With  you  in 
the  very  center  of  the  board,  we  can  soon  sweep  it 
clean." 

She  had  suggested  a  desperate  enterprise  indeed, 
one  that  took  my  breath  away.  Yet,  upon  con- 
sideration, I  found  it  no  more  desperate  than  the 
situation  as  it  stood  at  that  moment.  Of  course  I 
should  not  consent  to  hide  myself  away  from  dan- 
ger, in  which  course,  according  to  Lady  Marma- 
duke,  lay  my  only  hope  of  safety.  Nor  could  I 
expect  to  escape  the  patroon's  wrath  in  any  other 
way.  The  members  of  the  Red  Band  were  not 
above  the  secret  blow  under  cover  of  the  night,  and 
I  might  fall  at  any  moment.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it 
was  really  safer  for  me  to  go  boldly  into  the  midst 
of  my  enemies  than  to  let  them  come  at  me  from  a 
distance.    Yet  I  hesitated. 

"Are  you  afraid?"  flashed  Lady  Marmaduke  in 
scornful  anger. 

"Had  I  been  afraid,  madam,  I  had  never  hesi- 
tated," I  replied. 

What  really  troubled  me  and  made  it  hard  for 
me  to  decide  was  not  the  danger,  nor  even  a  doubt 


"SHE  THRUST  HER  HAND 
1^T0  THE  CANDLE  FLAME.''— p.   160 


PLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  EARL      150 

of  my  success.  On  the  contrary,  I  hesitated  over  a 
point  of  honor,  I  knew  very  well  that  the  Earl 
would  not  approve  of  this.  Could  I?  I  had  never, 
save  on  the  night  before,  played  the  part  of  a  spy, 
and  my  own  name  was  the  last  thing  in  the  world 
I  should  be  ashamed  to  own.  I  could  fight;  but 
no — I  could  never  be  capable  of  this  kind  of  work. 
Then  I  glanced  at  Lady  Marmaduke.  There  were 
tears  in  her  eyes,  and  I  knew  she  must  be  thinking 
of  her  husband.  Could  I  desert  her  now?  I  had 
sworn  to  be  her  man.  Was  it  honest  and  just  to 
turn  away  from  her  in  the  critical  moment — the 
first  time  she  had  desired  my  help?  My  mind  was 
swaying  in  the  opposite  direction  when  the  thought 
of  what  Ruth  would  have  said  clutched  my  waver- 
ing mind  back  to  the  side  of  truth  and  honor. 

Lady  Marmaduke  must  have  seen  all  this  passing 
in  my  mind  or  shadowed  in  my  face.  It  was  time 
for  her  to  put  her  firm  hand  ifpon  me  and  force  me 
the  way  she  would  have  me  go,  whether  I  would 
or  not.  It  was  to  my  brute  passions  she  appealed, 
not  to  my  reason. 

When  I  had  entered  the  room  ten  minutes  before, 
she  was  writing  letters,  and  the  candle  she  used  to 
soften  her  wax  with  was  still  burning  upon  the 
table.  She  took  a  step  towards  me  and  as  she  did 
so  I  noticed  the  candle  flame  wave  delicately  to  one 
side. 

"Michael,"  she  said,  putting  her  hand  upon  my 
shoulder.     "You  hesitate  and    I    am    ashamed  of 


160        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

you."  Her  hand  moved  along  my  shoulder  till  her 
fingers  played  upon  my  neck.  "I  said  that  I  saw  no 
mark  upon  her  body.  What  if  there  were  prints 
upon  her  neck?"  At  that  instant  her  iron  fingers 
closed  on  my  throat  with  a  grip  that  made  me  cry 
out. 

"Hush,  fool,"  she  said  fiercely,  relaxing  her  grip. 
"I  am  not  going  to  choke  you;  but  her  throat  was 
delicate  and  you  know  how  it  feels."  Then  her 
manner  changed.  She  spoke  quickly  and  looked 
towards  the  candle.  "He  said  he  branded  her. 
Perhaps  he  did.  It  was  night  when  I  looked  at  her 
body.  One  cannot  see  plain  by  night.  Perhaps 
he  did  after  all.  Did  you  ever  see  a  person  branded? 
Smell,  Michael,  smell." 

She  thrust  her  left  hand  into  the  candle  flame. 

"For  God's  sake !"  I  cried,  trying  to  snatch  her 
hand  away. 

"Stop,"  she  replied,  in  her  terrible  deep  voice. 
At  the  same  moment  she  caught  my  rescuing  hand 
and  held  it  in  a  vise. 

"Smell.    This  is  what  it  is  like  to  be  branded." 

A  spell  seemed  to  take  hold  of  me.  I  had  no 
power  to  move,  but  stood  still  watching  her  finger 
scorch  in  the  tall  flame.  Once  I  saw  it  tremble,  but 
she  bit  her  lip  and  grew  steady  again.  The  flesh 
began  to  shrivel  and  then — my  God!  I  caught 
that  horrible  stench  of  burning  flesh. 

"Stop,"  I  shrieked. 

"Oh  Ruth,  Ruth,  how  I  pity  you  in  your  pain," 


PLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  EARL      161 

cried  my  mistress,  who  held  on,  enduring  that  bitter 
agony  to  make  me  succumb  to  her  will. 

Then  the  sickening  smell  came  again  stronger 
than  ever. 

"Ruth,  Ruth,  Ruth!  The  bloodhound!  Stop. 
I'll  go,  I'll  go.    Oh  my  God,  my  God,  my  God !" 

I  threw  up  my  hands  with  a  cry  of  horror  and 
shut  my  eyes  upon  the  terrible  suggestion  of  that 
cruel  sight.  Lady  Marmaduke  bent  close  to  me 
and  spoke  in  my  ear. 

"Methinks  I  can  hear  her  scream  in  agony.  God, 
how  she  must  have  suffered  !" 

My  mistress  told  me  afterwards  that  I  groaned 
and  reeled  backward.  I  should  have  fallen  had 
she  not  caught  me  by  the  arm.  In  a  moment 
the  passion  spent  itself  and  I  was  sane  once  more. 
But  the  temptation  of  that  smell  had  prevailed 
against  the  prompting  of  my  conscience.  I  deter- 
mined to  run  the  risk.  My  life  if  it  must  be !  Yes, 
my  life,  but  his  too. 

So  I  resolved  to  join  the  Red  Band.  The  elab- 
orate precautions  I  took  before  I  assumed  my  dis- 
guise were  not  excessive.  There  were  many  acci- 
dents to  be  provided  against.  In  the  first  place, 
though  Lady  Marmaduke  would  be  able  to  account 
plausibly  for  my  disappearance  from  New  York, 
I  might  be  tolerably  sure  that  the  patroon  would 
scent  danger  in  the  circumstance.  I  must  be  dou- 
bly  careful  not   to  leave   any   tracks   that  would 


162    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

point  either  forward  or  backward  from  the  mo- 
ment I  changed  my  identity. 

Paradoxical  as  it  sounds,  I  must  accomplish  my 
disguise  without  the  help  of  any  disguise  at  all.  If 
my  bold  plan  succeeded  and  resulted  in  my  becom- 
ing a  member  of  the  Red  Band,  I  must  be  able 
to  strip  and  wash  myself  before  my  fellow  mem- 
bers, or  to  stand  a  merry  bout  of  leapfrog  or 
wrestling  in  the  servants'  quarters.  In  such  a  situ- 
ation I  could  not  guard  myself  against  discovery 
by  means  of  a  painted  face  that  would  wash  off 
at  the  first  touch  of  water,  nor  rely  upon  a  wig 
or  any  other  outward  changes  of  my  face.  I  could 
put  on  different  clothes;  I  could  cut  off  my  beard 
and  moustache;  for  the  rest,  I  must  trust  to  the 
very  boldness  of  the  deception  to  bring  me  through 
with  safety. 

When  night  came  I  had  prepared  a  plan  by 
which  I  hoped  to  annihilate  every  trace  of  my  pres- 
ence as  completely  as  if  I  had  flown  away  on  the 
wings  of  the  wind.  In  the  course  of  the  day  it 
got  abroad  that  I  should  set  out  early  the  next 
morning  for  Albany  on  business  of  Lady  Marma- 
duke's.  In  this  simple  way  was  my  disappearance 
on  the  morrow  to  be  accounted  for. 

About  midnight  Pierre  and  I  left  the  city  stealth- 
ily and  paddled  in  a  canoe  to  the  shore  of  Long 
Island.  Little  Pierre,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  barber. 
He  had  brought  his  shaving  utensils  with  him, 
and  by  the  light  of  the  moon  he  shaved  me,  lip  and 


PLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  EARL      163 

chin.  I  then  put  on  the  one  suit  of  clothes  that 
I  had  brought  with  me  and  which,  fortunately,  I 
had  not  yet  worn  in  public.  Pierre  made  a  bundle 
of  my  discarded  garments  and  prepared  to  set  out 
with  them  to  Marmaduke  Hall.  We  shook  hands 
at  the  edge  of  the  water.  Pierre  tried  once  or 
twice  to  say  something,  but  he  could  not  find  the 
voice.  He  seemed  to  feel  the  danger  of  the  situ- 
ation even  more  than  I  did.  At  last  he  blurted 
out: 

"Well,  if  we  don't  see  you  again,  here's  luck." 
He  gave  the  canoe  a  prodigious  shove.  A  mo- 
ment later  he  was  paddling  steadily  towards  the 
North  River.  I  watched  him  until  he  was  lost 
in  the  darkness;  then  I  set  out  across  the  island 
to  Gravesoon,  for  I  intended  to  repeat  the  journey 
that  I  had  formerly  made  when  I  first  came  to 
New  York.  If,  when  I  appeared  at  the  manor- 
house,  Van  Volkenberg  should  doubt  the  truth 
of  the  story  I  was  going  to  tell  him,  he  would  be 
likely  to  inquire  into  the  circumstances  of  my  ar- 
rival. I  resolved  to  let  him  trace  me  to  the  very 
edge  of  the  broad  Atlantic.  There  he  might  stare 
to  his  heart's  content.  He  would  see  nothing  but 
the  wide  blue  circle  of  the  sea. 

Fortune  was  on  my  side  that  morning.  By  day- 
light I  was  standing  on  the  shore  of  the  cove  where 
I  had  been  set  down  a  few  days  before  by  Captain 
Tew.  There  was,  by  accident,  at  that  very  mo- 
ment a  great  ship  hull  down  in  the  offing.     The 


164        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

presence  of  this  vessel  did  me  good  service.  When 
I  approached  the  ordinary  at  Gravesoon,  in  spite 
of  the  early  hour  of  the  morning,  I  found  a  num-^ 
ber  of  people  about  the  door.  Oiie  of  them  held 
a  spy-glass  in  his  hand  and  was  trying  to  make 
out  the  identity  of  the  distant  ship. 

I  w2iS  much  relieved  to  find,  when  I  came  to 
speak  with  the  landlord,  that  he  had  but  the  vaguest 
recollection  of  my  former  appearance.  To  be  sure, 
he  had  seen  me  only  once;  yet  he  had  a  slight 
remembrance  of  the  fact.  When  I  hinted  pretty 
plainly  that  I  had  come  ashore  from  the  ship,  which 
by  that  time  was  almost  out  of  sight,  he  said : 

''You  are  the  second  man  this  week.  The  other 
fellow  came  at  night  and,  bless  you !  not  a  word 
would  he  say  of  where  he  came  from  or  where  he 
was  going  to."  This  reassured  me,  for  I  had  in- 
quired after  Van  Volkenberg,  and  I  was  glad  that 
the  landlord  had  forgotten  the  fact.  Then  he  said 
abruptly,  "Can  you  blow  a  shell?" 

I  assured  him  that  I  could. 

"Well,  he  couldn't;  he  was  a  poor  piece." 

That  ended  our  consultation.  By  noon  I  had 
left  the  ordinary  at  Gravesoon  far  behind  me  and 
had  crossed  the  East  River  once  more  into  New 
York.  On  different  occasions  during  the  day  I 
met  both  my  mistress  and  the  Earl  of  Bellamont. 
I  smiled  to  myself  to  think  how  I  could  have  as- 
tonished them  had  I  wished  to  speak  out.  I  spent 
so  much   of  the  afternoon  bartering-  for  a  horse 


PLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  EARL      165 

and  attending  to  other  small  matters  that  it  was 
nearly  sunset  before  I  was  ready  to  set  out  for  the 
manor-house.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  had  another 
'reason  for  dela'  .  I  was  minded  to  put  my  dis- 
guise to  a  more  thorough  test  before  I  threw  my- 
self into  the  power  of  the  patroon.  With  this 
end  in  view.  I  presented  myself  at  Marmaduke 
Hall  and  inquired  for  the  mistress. 

I  had  not  forgotten  what  she  had  told  me  about 
the  title  to  her  estate,  nor  that  Van  Volkenberg 
had  vowed  that  he  would  get  possession  of  it  in 
spite  of  all  law  to  the  contrary.  So,  when  I  sent 
my  new  name,  Henrie  St.  Vincent,  to  Lady  Mar- 
maduke, I  sent  word  also  that  I  was  a  messenger 
from  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg  and  wished  to  see 
her  on  business  concerning  her  estate.  She  re- 
ceived me  in  a  high  state  of  dignity,  standing  erect 
at  one  end  of  the  long  room  with  her  hand  gripped 
on  the  collar  of  a  dog. 

"Madam,"  said  I,  and  got  no  further  before  she 
interrupted  me. 

"Sir,"  she  replied.  "I  understand  that  you  come 
from  Kilian  Van  Volkenberg.  I  can  guess  your 
errand.     Will  you  be  pleased  to  follow  me." 

She  was  very  angry,  for  which  I  could  see  no 
reason  since  she  had  not  heard  a  word  of  what 
I  had  to  say.  Perhaps  it  was  the  mere  impudence 
of  a  messenger  from  the  patroon.  She  strode  out 
of  the  apartment  with  me  trooping  behind  her, 
wondering  what  she  was  going  to  do  next.     She 


166    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

led  the  way  through  the  kitchen  to  the  Httle  out- 
building where  I  had  seen  the  huge  iron  pots  a  few 
days  before.  Fire  raged  under  three  of  them.  The 
massive  covers  tilted  and  rocked  above  the  steam. 
Lady  Marmaduke  signed  to  the  servants  to  re- 
move one  of  the  lids.  They  caught  hold  of  the 
chains  and  began  to  pull.  As  the  lid  rose  a  cloud 
of  steam  filled  the  room.  I  could  feel  my  newly 
shaved  cheeks  go  damp  and  moist  with  the  vapor. 
Lady  Marmaduke  looked  at  me,  but  I  could  only 
see  her  face  at  times,  for  the  steam  came  and 
went  in  clouds  between  us. 

"Do  you  see  that?"  she  asked  in  a  high  voice, 
hard  with  anger.  "If  you  or  any  other  of  your 
accursed  Red  Band  dare  to  set  foot  in  Marmaduke 
Hall  again,  I  shall  put  you  in  that  pot.  Ay,  if  it  is 
old  Kilian  himself,  I  shall  drop  him  in.  Do  you 
hear  me?" 

She  looked  as  if  she  meant  what  she  said;  for 
all  that,  I  could  not  forbear  a  smile.  She  peered 
into  my  face  for  a  moment  and  then  her  expression 
seemed  to  relax  a  little. 

"Why  do  you  laugh?"  she  asked.  "You  are  im- 
pudent like  your  master.  I  have  a  mind  to  let  my 
dogs  loose  on  you.  I  understand  that  that  is  a 
favorite  trick  at  the  manor-house.  But  I  shall  not 
do  it.  Come  with  me.  I  have  a  last  message  to 
send  the  honorable  patroon." 

When  we  were  back  in  the  great  room  again 
she  closed  the  door  behind  her.    Then  she  fell  into 


PLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  EARL     16T 

a  spell  of  laughter  which  was  so  loud  and  hearty 
that  I  thought  she  was  in  hysterics.  After  a  mo- 
ment she  stopped  as  violently  as  she  had  begun, 
though  her  body  still  shook  with  suppressed  mer- 
riment. 

"What  would  they  think,"  she  said  as  soon  as  she 
could  get  her  voice.  "What  would  they  think  if 
they  could  hear  me  laugh  like  this  with  a  man 
of  my  sworn  enemy's  at  my  elbow?  But  be  sure 
you  do  not  let  him  send  you  here.  I  should  put 
you  in  the  pot  if  he  did  and  that  would  be  a  great 
pity.  Yes,  I  should  put  you  in  the  pot,  even  you, 
as  sure  as  your  name  is  Michael  Le  Bourse." 

It  was  now  my  turn  to  be  amazed.  The  fact 
that  she  had  penetrated  my  disguise  was  discon- 
certing in  the  extreme.  She  soon  set  me  at 
ease,  however,  by  telling  me  that  her  suspicions 
were  not  aroused  until  I  smiled  at  her  fierce  threats. 

"No  one  in  Yorke  laughs  in  my  presence  when 
I  am  angry,"  was  her  explanation.  "But  then, 
Michael,  I  knew  you  were  somewhere  about  in 
disguise  and  I  have  seen  more  of  you  than  any  one 
else  in  the  city.  I  do  not  think  that  you  need  to 
fear  that  he  will  recognize  you." 

"I  hope  not,"  was  my  answer.  Another  meeting 
that  I  had  already  had  helped  to  dispel  my  fears. 
On  my  way  to  Marmaduke  Hall  I  had  encountered 
Pierre.  I  accosted  him  boldly  and  inquired  my 
way.  Yet  Pierre,  who  had  actually  seen  me  since 
my  change — though,  to  be  sure,  he  had  seen  me 


168        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

only  by  dim  moonlight — even  he  failed  to  show 
the  least  sign  of  recognition. 

Now  that  my  mistress  knew  who  I  was,  I 
broached  a  subject  that  had  already  been  matter 
of  conversation  between  us.  It  was  whether  we 
should  let  the  Earl  know  of  our  present  undertak- 
ing. Lady  Marmaduke  had  already  told  me  that 
the  time  would  come  when  we  should  have  to  jog 
our  own  way  if  we  jogged  at  all.  She  seemed  to 
think  that  that  time  had  come,  though  I  had  serious 
doubts  about  it. 

"No,  Michael,  we  must  not  tell  him  now.  In 
fact,  I  sounded  him  this  afternoon  in  a  roundabout 
way  without  mentioning  names.  What  do  you 
think  he  said?  He  took  up  a  book  from  the  table. 
You  know  he  is  a  great  reader  and  this  was  one 
of  those  ancient  history  books  where  he  says  the 
old  play  writers  got  their  stage  stories  from.  He 
said  that  it  told  about  once  upon  a  time  when  Pom- 
,pey — he  was  a  Roman  general,  you  know — had 
Caesar  and  Antony  and  Lepidus  to  dinner  with 
him  on  one  of  his  ships.  One  of  Pompey's  offi- 
cers came  to  him  and  said  that  if  he  would  cut 
the  cables  that  held  his  ship  he  could  put  out  to 
sea  and  he  would  have  all  his  enemies  in  his  power. 
You  see  Pompey  was  at  war  with  the  other  three 
and  they  had  met  to  arrange  a  peace." 

"What  did  Pompey  do?"  I  inquired  of  my  lady. 

"Just  what  I  asked  the  Earl.  Would  you  believe 
it?    Pompey  was  too  nice  for  that  kind  of  thing. 


'PLOTTING  WITHOUT  THE  E'ARL     169 

and  because  he  felt  he  could  not  do  it  honorably 
himself,  he  got  mad  at  his  ofKcer  and  cursed  him 
roundly  for  not  having  done  it  himself,  instead  of 
telling  him  about  it.  Such  a  service  should  have 
been  performed  before  he  was  consulted.  Then  it 
had  been  a  service  indeed.  It  was  very  amusing 
to  see  the  Earl's  eyes  twinkle  as  he  told  this  story. 
I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  tease  him. 

"  'What  if  I  have  acted  on  Pompey's  advice,* 
said  I,  'and  have  come  to  tell  you  that  it  is  already 
done?' 

"That  greatly  agitated  him.  'You  cannot.  For 
the  world,  I  would  not  have  you  take  me  seriously. 
I  could  not  descend  to  such  dishonest  practices  as 
that.' 

"This  made  me  wince,  and  I  was  minded  to 
give  him  a  sharp  answer.  But  I  did  not.  I  put 
him  off  with  excuses  and  he  is  none  the  wiser.  You 
do  not  still  think  we  had  better  tell  him,  do 
you?" 

I  certainly  did  not,  but,  for  all  that,  I  was  un- 
easy in  my  mind.  I  was  not  at  all  sure  but  that  the 
Earl  was  right  and  my  lady  wrong.  However,  it 
was  now  too  late  to  mend.  That  was  a  great  com- 
fort. I  put  a  brave  face  on  the  matter  and  re- 
solved to  carry  my  part  through  to  the  end. 

But  I  was  to  have  one  more  disagreeable  re- 
minder of  my  danger  before  I  set  out  for  Van 
Volkenberg's.  The  details  of  this  event  do  not 
matter,  but  the  main  fact  may  as  well  be  told. 


170        PAT  ROOM  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

Pierre,  unintelligent  as  his  face  had  appeared  when 
I  met  him,  had  recognized  me.  He  was  so  proud 
because  he  had  not  betrayed  his  knowledge  that  he 
managed  a  safe  way  to  let  me  know  about  it,  brag- 
ging at  length  of  his  discretion.  The  only  ef- 
fect of  this  piece  of  news  upon  me  was  to  make 
me  feel  still  more  insecure  and  doubtful  of  the  re- 
ception I  should  meet  with  at  the  manor-house. 
One  thought,  however,  comforted  me.  Van  Volk- 
enberg  had  seen  me  only  a  few  times  and  then 
for  only  a  few  minutes  at  a  time.  I  really  be- 
lieved that  he  would  not  be  able  to  recognize  me 
after  the  change  wrought  by  the  removal  of  my 
heavy  beard.  Yet  I  set  out  not  wholly  sure.  I 
must  confess  that  my  heart  was  beating  a  little 
quicker  than  usual  in  anticipation  of  the  result. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  SILVER  BUTTONS 

I  set  out  for  the  manor-house  shortly  before  twi- 
light, taking  the  Boston  post  road,  which  led  north- 
ward by  the  patroon's  estate.  I  passed  the  Kissing 
Bridge,  over  which  I  had  seen  the  patroon  and 
his  dwarf  ride  with  a  retinue  of  soldiers  behind 
them;  thence  along  the  doubling  road  for  five  miles 
till  I  came  at  last  to  a  noble  park  of  elms  and 
beeches.  Here  the  road  began  to  lift,  not  steeply, 
but  swinging  in  broad  curves  among  the  tree 
trunks,  till  at  last  I  came  to  a  pause  on  the  crest  of 
a  hill.  After  breathing  my  horse  for  a  moment, 
I  continued  my  way  and  soon  reached  a  terraced 
lawn  dotted  with  shrubs,  and  all  of  an  exquisite 
softness  of  color.  A  fringe  of  cedars  hid  the  offices 
and  out-buildings,  though  the  side  of  the  manor- 
house  was  in  plain  view.  When  I  reached  the  front 
of  the  rambling  stone  building,  a  servant  in  livery 
took  my  horse,  and  another  showed  me  into  a  re- 
ception room,  where  I  was  to  wait  till  he  took  my 
name  to  his  master.  Soon  he  returned  and  de- 
sired me  to  follow  him. 

I  found  Van  Volkenberg  in  his  study,  sur- 
rounded by  papers  and  maps;  he  was  evidently  deep 
in  the  business  of  his  estate. 

A  dog — it  looked  like  the  one  I  had  fought  with, 

171 


172        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

though  I  thought  I  had  killed  him — this  dog  rose 
at  my  entrance  and  stood  by  his  master's  chair, 
growling  sullenly.  The  patroon  looked  up  with 
an  expression  in  his  face  that  showed  neither  irrita- 
tion at  being  interrupted  nor  pleasure  at  seeing 
me.  He  was  dressed  from  head  to  foot  in  black 
except  for  a  dark  crimson  skull  cap  that  confined 
his  silver  gray  hair.  He  was  seated  by  the  table 
when  I  entered,  but  rose  politely  to  bid  me  wel- 
come. 

"Monsieur  St.  Vincent,"  he  said  with  a  dignified 
incHnation  of  his  head.     "C'est  bien." 

I  made  a  low  bow,  pleased  to  hear  my  native 
tongue.  Then  I  stood  erect  with  one  hand  on  the 
hilt  of  my  sword,  the  other  resting  upon  my  hip. 
I  threw  as  much  bravado  into  my  appearance  as 
I  could,  for  I  was  playing  a  bold  game  and  the 
patroon  did  not  look  Hke  a  man  who  would  be 
taken  by  a  cringing  manner. 

"Patroon  Van  Volkenberg,"  I  began,  in  order  to 
introduce  my  errand,  "I  have  come  to  ask  a  favor 
of  you." 

"Ah,"  he  returned  pleasantly.  "Favors  are  what 
I  like.  Pray  be  seated.  Louis,  a  chair  for  Monsieur 
St.  Vincent." 

It  was  the  dwarf,  Louis  Van  Ramm,  who  had 
escorted  me  into  the  presence  of  the  patroon.  He 
now  set  a  chair  for  me  and,  at  another  signal,  with- 
drew. He  seemed  to  obey  his  orders  a  little  sul- 
lenly.    I  am  not  sure  but  that  the  signal  for  his 


THE  SILVER  BUTTONS  173 

withdrawal  was  repeated  before  he  noticed  it.  This 
behavior  surprised  me,  for  I  had  heard  much  of  the 
discipline  of  the  Red  Band  and  of  the  despotic  rule 
of  Van  Volkenberg. 

"Now,  sir,"  continued  the  patroon  as  soon  as 
we  were  alone.     "Now,  sir,  I  am  at  your  service." 

"It  is  to  be  admitted  to  yours  that  I  have  come 
to  you  to-day." 

"To  mine;  to  my  service  do  you  mean?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"For  what  reason?"  he  asked,  gazing-  at  me  with 
his  keen,  penetrating  eyes. 

"From  what  I  hear  of  the  condition  of  the  city, 
I  am  led  to  beHeve  that  you  have  plenty  of  work 
for  a  soldier  who  has  honorable  scars  to  show." 

"You  mean,  I  suppose,  that  some  one  has  told 
you  that  there  is  fighting  to  do  in  the  Red  Band." 

"I  was  informed,  indeed,  that  there  was  fighting 
recently  on  the  Slip." 

"No  'indeed'  about  it!  A  mere  brawl.  A  street 
fight  among  drunkards.  Is  that  the  kind  of  fight- 
ing you  are  anxious  for?" 

"I  shall  not  choose  the  quarrels  if  your  honor  will 
let  me  help  to  settle  them." 

"You  have  a  clever  way  with  your  tongue,  mon- 
sieur. But  why  did  you  come  to  me?  The  Earl 
of  Bellamont  is  the  man  of  all  Yorke  whom  it  is 
good  to  fight  for  at  present." 

"True,  sir.  But  I  came  to  you  for  the  simplest 
of  reasons.     He  will  have  none  of  me." 


174        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"Hush,  you  brute,"  he  cried  to  the  dog,  who  had 
begun  to  growl  again.  "So  you  applied  to  his  Ex- 
cellency, did  you?" 

"Assuredly." 

"Assuredly !  I  like  your  assuredly  and  your  as- 
surance too!    Why  him  before  me?" 

"You  have  just  spoken  it;  because  he  is  the  man 
now." 

"Zounds !  This  to  my  face !  And  asking  a  favor 
of  me  to  boot!  Back,  you  brute.  Must  you  fly  at 
everything  I  point  my  finger  at?" 

The  patroon  had  started  up  angrily,  followed  by 
his  dog,  which  leaped  upon  me,  or  had  nearly  done 
so,  when  his  master  caught  him  by  the  collar  and 
dragged  him  back.  The  suddenness  of  the  attack 
^ave  me  no  time  to  reflect,  much  less  to  get  out  of 
the  way.  Therefore  I  made  a  virtue  of  necessity 
and  stood  my  ground  with  firmness.  This  apparent 
fortitude  on  my  part  seemed  to  raise  me  consid- 
erably in  the  opinion  of  the  patroon. 

"You  are  no  coward,"  he  said,  at  the  same  time 
making  an  effort  to  pacify  the  hound.  "How  am 
I  to  know  that  you  are  not  sent  here  by  my  ene- 
mies to  spy  upon  me?  It  is  not  three  days  since  I 
found  Caesar  nearly  dead,  and  the  next  morning 
there  were  footprints  under  my  study  window." 

Whether  it  was  by  mere  chance  or  by  intention 
that  he  made  this  allusion  to  my  former  es- 
capade, I  do  not  know.  However,  I  met  his  look 
bravely  and  without  flinching.     For  the  moment, 


THE  SILVER  BUTTONS  175 

he  seemed  satisfied  of  my  integrity,  whatever  his 
inward  thoughts  may  have  been. 

"Tell  your  story,  St.  Vincent.  But  mark  my. 
word,  if  you  play  me  a  trick  I  shall  have  you 
lashed."  He  hesitated  a  moment,  then  added,  with 
his  eyes  upon  me  as  before:  "Ay,  or  worse  than 
lashed." 

"When  you  find  me  false,  it  will  be  time  to  talk 
of  punishment,"  I  answered  stififly.  "I  am  no  knave, 
but  an  honest  man." 

"Proceed;  it  is  the  only  way  I  can  get  rid  of 
you." 

"Pardon  me,"  I  retorted,  at  the  same  time  rising 
from  my  chair  as  if  much  offended  at  his  rude  re- 
joinder. "I  have  no  desire  to  serve  you.  There 
are  some  things  that  become  neither  a  gentleman 
nor  a  gentleman's  master.  I  shall  rid  you  of  my 
presence  as  soon  as  I  have  delivered  a  message  that 
should  not  have  waited  on  my  own  concerns." 

"You  have  a  message  for  me?" 

"Yes.  Captain  Tew  desired  me  to  inform  you 
that  his  voyage  is  prospering  well,  and  that  ample 
return  will  be  made." 

"Tew,  Tew,  who  is  Captain  Tew?" 

"Your  honor  best  knows.  He  bade  me  tell  you 
that.    With  your  permission  I  shall  seek  my  horse." 

"Be  not  so  quick  to  take  offense.  Sit  down  again 
and  explain  your  errand." 

"My  only  other  purpose  was  to  enter  your  ser- 
vice, and  on  that  point  I  have  changed  my  mind." 


176        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"Sit  down,  fool.  I  take  back  what  I  said.  Can 
you  not  pardon  an  old  man's  temper?" 

Plainly  my  allusion  to  the  buccaneer  had  touched 
him  home.  I  knew  by  the  look  in  his  face  that 
by  that  clew  I  could  wind  him  round  my  finger; 
but  I  saw  too  that  I  must  be  careful  not  to  run 
my  own  head  into  a  noose  while  I  made  the  attempt 
to  snare  him.  As  yet  I  had  succeeded  in  arousing 
only  his  interest  and,  perhaps,  his  suspicion.  For 
a  moment  I  stood  with  my  eyes  on  the  ground 
as  if  debating  with  myself.    Then  I  answered : 

"You  have  spoken  like  a  gentleman.  I  likewise 
retract  my  hasty  speech." 

He  gave  me  his  hand. 

"We  begin  to  understand  each  other,  Monsieur 
St.  Vincent.  I  was  wrong  in  my  first  impression. 
Frankly,  I  took  you  for  a  spy  who  would  not  leave 
till  you  had  wormed  some  information  out  of  me. 
But  I  am  satisfied.  You  have  not  the  manner  of  a 
spy.    Now  tell  your  tale." 

He  fitted  the  palms  of  his  hands  together,  idly 
paddling  the  tips  of  his  fingers  against  each  other. 
.This  was  a  habit,  I  afterwards  learned,  that  he  often 
resorted  to,  especially  when  he  was  at  a  loss  to 
comprehend  the  situation.  I  went  on  to  tell  the 
patroon  a  made-up  tale  of  my  adventures  with  the 
buccaneer. 

"Captain  Tew,"  I  said  in  the  course  of  my  nar- 
rative, "was  for  helping  me,  and,  as  I  was  bound 
for  New  York,  he  put  me  ashore  near  Gravesoon, 


THE  SILVER  BUTTONS  111 

telling  me  to  come  to  you.  He  assured  me  that 
you  and  the  previous  governor,  Colonel  Fletcher, 
were  well  acquainted  with  him,  and  that  you  were 
always  on  the  lookout  for  a  good  blade  and  a 
faithful  servant." 

I  paused  as  if  I  had  said  all  that  I  was  going 
to  say.  The  patroon,  I  thought,  did  not  relish  my 
story.  He  sat  silent,  still  drumming  his  finger  tips. 
From  time  to  time  he  looked  sullenly  at  me,  then 
he  would  drop  his  eyes  to  his  pattering  fingers 
again.  For  several  minutes  he  continued  in  this 
state  of  agitation. 

''I  admit  that  I  have  seen  this  fellow  Tew,"  he 
said  at  last.  *T  had  forgotten  the  name,  but  now 
he  comes  back  to  me.  His  dealings  with  Fletcher 
and  me  were  before  he  took  to  the  seas  for  a  liveli- 
hood." 

He  fell  silent.  Evidently  I  had  touched  him 
deeply.  I  could  make  a  fair  guess  of  what  was 
in  his  mind.  Would  it  be  safer  for  him  to  let 
me  go  free,  or  to  keep  me  at  his  side  where  he 
could  watch  me?  If  I  were  really  a  spy,  I  must 
possess  some  dangerous  information  concerning  his 
dealings  with  the  buccaneers.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  I  were  what  I  said  I  was,  he  could  make  good 
use  of  me  in  the  Red  Band.  As  we  sat  silent  I 
heard  a  distant  bell  toll. 

"Our  evening  service,"  said  the  patroon.  "Will 
you  attend?" 

Patroon  Van  Volkenberg  was  a  Catholic.     At 


tt78        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

that  moment,  when  he  asked  me  to  attend  a  Roman 
service,  I  had  more  ado  to  preserve  my  self-con- 
trol than  I  had  had  for  many  a  day.  So  violent 
was  my  anger,  and  so  difficult  to  suppress,  that  I 
resolved  on  the  instant  to  make  a  desperate  move 
in  order  to  protect  myself  against  similar  tempta- 
tions in  the  future. 

"Mynheer,"  I  said,  "I  see  by  your  face  that 
you  trust  me.  I  must  be  plain  spoken  with  you 
if  I  expect  the  same  from  you.  I  cannot  attend 
your  service  because  I  am  a  Protestant.  I  am 
not  only  that,  but  a  refugee,  and  I  despise — " 

''Softly,  softly,"  he  returned,  Hfting  his  hand  as 
if  to  calm  me.  "I  understand  your  feelings,  but 
you  will  not  find  them  shared,  I'll  trust  a  Protes- 
tant as  well  as  a  Catholic.  Curse  their  religion, 
but  they  are  honest  men.  King  Louis  broke  the 
best  bone  in  his  body  when  he  sent  you  away.  But 
I  am  not  a  fool.  The  devil  himself  may  serve  me 
if  he  serves  me  well.    I  respect  you  for  that." 

I  rose  from  my  chair  and  he  rose  likewise.  For 
a  moment  we  stood  fronting  each  other.  I  saw 
by  the  look  of  his  eye  that  he  was  still  in  doubt. 
The  moment  had  come  for  me  to  play  my  last 
card. 

"This  button,"  said  I,  handing  it  to  him.  "This 
button  was  given  me  by  Captain  Tew  as  an  intro- 
duction." 

While  he  was  examining  the  button  with  great 


THE  SILVER  BUTTONS  179 

interest,  I  continued  to  dwell  on  what  I  thought 
were  significant  details. 

"The  jolly  captain  cut  it  off  his  coat,"  I  said. 
"I  remember  how  he  drew  his  cutlass  and  cursed 
it  roundly  as  a  clumsy  tool  for  such  a  service.  'Take 
the  button,'  he  said.  'It's  a  high  price  I  pay  you, 
for  I  value  the  name  that's  scratched  on  the  back. 
By  my  soul !  If  Tommy  Tew  is  ever  taken,  there'll 
be  some  damning  tales  in  Yorke  about  the  gov- 
ernor when  they  come  to  examine  the  buttons  on 
his  coat.'  " 

"Fletcher  was  a  fool  to  send  him  those  buttons," 
exclaimed  Van  Volkenberg.  "But  give  me  your 
hand,  St.  Vincent.  You  shall  be  my  man.  In  the 
morning,  if  you  still  desire  it,  you  shall  put  the 
red  band  upon  your  sleeve." 

With  that  we  shook  hands. 

"What  ails  the  brute?"  cried  the  patroon,  for 
the  dog  was  growling  again  and  walking  about  me 
in  sidelong  circles. 

Small  wonder  that  he  showed  a  strong  aversion 
to  me!  I  supposed  that  I  had  left  him  dead  from 
our  struggle  in  the  woods.  Doubtless  his  sides 
and  neck  still  ached  from  that  encounter. 

"Perhaps  I  can  quiet  him,"  I  said,  smiling  to 
myself. 

But  when  I  put  out  my  hand  towards  him  he 
bounded  back  with  a  yelp  of  terror.  Then  he 
dashed  through  the  door  and  was  gone. 


180    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"Humph!"  exclaimed  the  patroon.  "Like  his 
mistress  half  the  time." 

"His  mistress?"  I  cried  in  surprise,  for  I  had 
thought  that  the  dog  belonged  to  the  patroon. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  a  frown  gathering  on  his 
face.  "Caesar  belongs  to  a  crazy  old  hag  who 
lives  in  the  hills.  Meg  of  the  Hills  we  call  her. 
Poor  Meg!" 

I  thought  little  of  the  dog's  behavior  then,  but  it 
was  to  come  home  to  me  before  the  night  was 
over.  Meantime,  I  felt  more  or  less  despondent, 
though,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  could  not  say  why. 
I  had  played  my  hand  boldly  and  I  had  won.  I 
was  now,  or  should  be  in  the  morning,  a  member 
of  the  Red  Band.  I  should  be  able  to  ferret  out 
the  patroon's  secrets.  I  hoped  to  be  able  to  trip 
him  up  and  thus  put  an  end  to  his  evil  practices 
forever.  Yet  when  we  clasped  hands  in  final  agree- 
ment, I  felt  instinctively  that  I  had  met  my  match. 
Could  it  be  that  there  were  two  play-actors  in  Van 
Volkenberg  manor  that  night  when  I  thought  that 
there  was  but  one?  Did  he  see  deeper  than  he 
pretended  to  see?  Was  he,  as  well  as  I,  playing 
a  part?  Time  alone  could  tell.  But  nothing  is 
ever  mended  by  worry;  the  thought  of  this  old 
maxim  soon  drove  away  my  fears,  and  my  spirits 
rose  in  consequence. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

"FIRE  AND   SLEETE   AND    CANDLE-LIGHT" 

Of  all  the  crises  of  my  life  I  am  accustomed  to 
think  of  the  presentation  of  my  silver  button  to  the 
patroon  as  the  most  important.  Nor  did  I  under- 
rate it  at  the  time.  On  that  night,  when  the  manor 
was  settling  itself  to  sleep,  I  walked  restlessly  on 
the  wide  terrace,  taking  account  of  the  game  as 
it  stood,  of  the  cards  in  my  hand,  and  reckoning 
forward  on  the  play  of  the  morrow. 

The  manor-house  was  a  rambling  stone  structure 
of  two  stories.  It  abounded  in  irregular  corners, 
and  in  long,  gloomy  corridors  which  crossed  and 
forked  as  intricately  as  the  streets  of  a  city.  On 
the  north  side,  the  side  visible  from  the  window 
of  my  room,  there  was  a  wide  terrace.  When  I 
stepped  upon  it,  it  was  mostly  in  the  deep  shadow. 
Here  and  there,  however,  the  moonlight  broke 
across  it  in  narrow  silver  bands. 

I  was  thinking  about  my  new  master  and  about 
the  danger  of  my  situation.  Lady  Marmaduke 
and  Pierre  had  both  penetrated  my  disguise.  Was 
the  patroon  as  keen-eyed  as  they?  Had  he  recog- 
nized me  also  and  had  he  guessed  the  secret  of 
my  presence?  I  recalled  every  word  he  had  said, 
and  every  expression  of  his  face,  even  the  idle  tap- 
ping of  his  finger  tips.    The  more  I  pondered  the 

181 


182    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

more  I  was  at  a  loss.  I  could  make  nothing  of 
the  patroon's  action  beyond  what  appeared  on  the 
surface.  So  I  gave  over  thinking  of  him  and  thought 
of  pleasanter  things. 

There  are  few  joys  in  this  world  greater  than 
the  approach  of  danger  when  it  courts  success. 
But  when  the  certainty  of  success  is  absent  one 
has  not  far  to  go  to  find  happier  stuff  for  musing. 
My  mind  was  soon  full  of  the  girl  Miriam.  Here, 
in  the  very  bosom  of  my  enemy's  house,  where  I 
was  a  spy  in  constant  peril  of  my  life,  I  had  found 
one  who,  if  not  exactly  my  friend,  had,  at  least,  a 
strong  claim  upon  my  gratitude.  I  had  no  doubt 
now  that  I  had  met  the  patroon's  daughter  when 
I  wandered  in  my  trance,  and  that  she  had  given 
me  the  miniature  which  I  wore  about  my  neck. 
In  my  dreams  I  had  thought  her  an  angel.  To  my 
waking  eyes  she  appeared  no  less  beautiful.  Her 
tall,  graceful  figure,  her  calm  eyes  and  dark  hair, 
above  all,  her  pride  and  her  afifection  for  my  sister 
— all  these  qualities  together  won  my  heart. 
Though  she  was  a  Catholic,  I  could  not  cease  to 
think  of  her  as  I  had  seen  her  when  I  crouched 
beneath  her  father's  window,  when  she  stood 
bravely  facing  his  headlong  anger  on  behalf  of  the 
girl  whom  she  must  have  considered  as  a  common 
servant.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  protect  her.  I 
recalled  the  goblet  that  I  had  seen  shatter  against 
the  wall.  The  idea  of  her  needing  a  protector  was 
not  an  idle  dream. 


"FIRE  AND  SLEET E"  183 

While  I  was  thinking  about  her  she  came  towards 
me,  walking  slowly  along  the  shadowy  terrace.  I 
first  spied  her  white  dress  shimmering  in  the  dark; 
then  she  stepped  into  a  band  of  moonlight  and  her 
whole  figure  became  radiant.  I  took  off  my  hat, 
but  she  passed  me  without  a  word  or  even  a  bow 
of  recognition.  She  seemed  to  have  come  out  upon 
the  terrace  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  take  the 
air.  She  continued  to  traverse  it  back  and  forth 
•without  paying  any  attention  to  me.  Only  once 
she  seemed  to  notice  me.  Then  she  stopped  in 
front  of  me,  was  about  to  speak,  lifted  her  head 
proudly,  and  passed  on. 

While  we  were  thus,  a  distant  sound  broke  sav- 
agely upon  our  ears.  The  night  had  fallen  very 
still,  so  still  you  could  count  the  chirping  crickets. 
A  fringe  of  birches  in  the  moonlight  looked 
like  a  row  of  peering  ghosts.  The  sudden  sound 
that  broke  the  stillness  seemed  at  first  to  be  some 
one  calling  out.  It  was  coming  nearer,  though 
it  came  and  went  drearily.  At  times  it  was  almost 
like  a  song.  Occasionally  it  rose  to  a  long  mourn- 
ful wail;  after  that  there  would  be  silence. 

Mistress  Van  Volkenberg  stopped  to  listen.  She 
stood  so  near  me  that  I  could  have  touched  her 
with  my  hand.  I  could  hear  her  breathe  in  long 
gasping  breaths.  "She  must  not  come  to-night," 
I  heard  her  mutter.  "If  I  could  only  warn  her 
back!" 

"I  am  at  your  service,  madam." 


184        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

*'Hush,"  she  said.  She  stepped  a  little  closer  to 
me  and  continued :  "It  is  Meg  of  the  Hills,  a  poor 
crazy  woman.  But  I  love  her.  She  used  to  be 
my  mother's  servant." 

"Is  it  not  safe  for  her?"  I  asked, 

"Her  wild  ways  anger  my  father,"  was  her  simple 
answer. 

I  needed  no  further  explanation  to  know  why 
she  dreaded  a  meeting  between  the  two.  After 
iive  minutes,  during  which  we  Hstened  in  silence, 
Meg  appeared  at  the  edge  of  the  wide  stretch  of 
turf  that  surrounded  the  house.  She  was  still  chant- 
ing her  wild  song,  which  was  unlike  any  music  I 
had  ever  fancied.  Behind  her,  nosing  her  skirts, 
came  the  hound,  Caesar,  who  had  fled  when  I  of- 
fered to  touch  him.  I  inquired  again  whether  I 
should  convey  a  warning  message  to  her. 

"No,"  answered  my  companion.  "That  would 
distress  my  father  also.    Let  us  wait." 

The  woman  and  the  dog  came  nearer,-  They; 
were  about  to  pass  us  when  the  latter  suddenly; 
stopped  and  began  to  growl. 

"What  is  it,  Meg?"  said  my  companion  in  a 
soothing  tone.  Then  she  gripped  my  arm  tight. 
Her  fingers  trembled  with  excitement.  I  looked 
around  for  the  cause  and  saw  that  her  father  had 
stepped  upon  the  terrace.  Meantime  Meg  of  the 
Hills  had  caught  sight  of  us.  She  stopped  singing. 
The  light  fell  upon  her  angular  face,  full  of  lines 
and  ridges.    Her  long  white  hair  streamed  like  sil- 


"FIRE  AND  SLEET E"  185 

ver  down  her  back.    Suddenly  she  stretched  a  long, 

skinny  finger  at  me.    She  threw  back  her  head  like 

a  baying  dog.     And  she  wailed  in  a  grewsome 

drone : 

"Fire  and  sleete  and  candle-light, 
And  Christ  receive  your  soul." 

"Meg,"  cried  the  patroon  sharply,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment was  by  her  side. 

Mistress  Van  Volkenberg  put  her  lips  close  to 
my  ear.  ''That  is  a  bad  omen  and  they  are  super- 
stitious here.     Be  wary  of  yourself  to-night." 

I  gave  full  heed  to  what  she  said,  for  the  scene 
was  already  telling  upon  my  nerves.  But  what 
did  it  mean?  My  companion  would  not  stop  to 
explain  her  warning.  The  patroon  disappeared 
round  the  corner  of  the  house  with  his  witless 
charge.  I  remained  alone  upon  the  terrace  like  a 
man  awakened  from  a  dream.  Yet  this  time  I 
knew  that  it  was  no  dream. 

I  did  not  forget  her  warning.  When  I  shut  the 
door  of  my  room  I  looked  to  the  priming  of  my 
pistols,  drew  my  sword  from  its  scabbard,  and  then 
lay  down  upon  the  bed  without  undressing.  Some 
time  later  I  awakened  suddenly  with  the  conscious- 
ness that  I  had  been  struck  in  the  face;  not  a  heavy 
blow,  but  a  light  one  as  if  by  some  small  object. 
I  sat  still,  listening.  Soon  there  came  a  sharp  click 
upon  the  floor,  then  another  as  of  something  strik- 
ing against  the  window  frame.  Someone  was  surely 


186        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

throwing  pebbles  into  my  room  from  the  outside. 
I  rose  and  went  to  look  out  of  my  window,  w^hich 
w-as  on  the  second  floor.  Below  me  in  the  moon- 
light stood  Meg  of  the  Hills.  Her  skinny  finger 
was  raised  to  her  lips  for  silence.  For  a  moment 
her  features  showed  intense — what  was  it?  Hatred, 
anger,  fear — I  know  not.  Then  she  threw  up  her 
hands,  her  head  fell  back,  and  she  sang : 

"Fire  and  sleete  and  candle-light, 
And  Christ  receive  your  soul." 

She  pointed  her  hand  at  me,  pronounced  the 
words,  "Be  wary,"  and  was  gone  swiftly  like  a 
shadow  on  the  water.  What  struck  me  most  was 
her  changed  manner.  Early  in  the  evening,  I  had 
heard  her  singing  in  a  wild,  harsh  screech.  Now 
she  spoke  under  her  breath,  cunningly,  as  if  in 
secret.    Was  she  warning  me  and  was  there  cause? 

A  narrow  balcony  ran  along  one  side  of  the 
house  at  the  level  of  the  second  floor,  passing  just 
in  front  of  my  window.  At  that  moment  I  heard 
a  casement  open  and  some  one  step  on  this  balcony. 
I  drew  back  into  my  room,  catching  up  my  sword 
and  pistols.  I  smelt  danger  in  the  air,  though  as 
yet  none  was  visible.  Suddenly  I  concealed  my- 
self behind  the  hangings  on  the  wall.  I  did  this 
because  I  saw  some  one  come  cautiously  to  my 
window  and  peer  through  it  into  my  room.  I 
looked  again;  I  could  not  be  mistaken;  the  figure. 


fiTiri-' 


I  THOUGHT  HE  WOULD  SURELY 
HEAR  A\Y  BREATHING    '—p.  187 


"FIRE  AND  SLEETE"  187 

the  white  hair;  yes,  it  was  Louis  Van  Ramm,  the 
patroon's  dwarf. 

The  room  was  too  dark  for  him  to  see  my  bed. 
He  listened  for  a  short  space  of  time,  during  which 
I  thought  he  would  surely  hear  my  breathing.  Then 
he  crawled  cautiously  through  the  casement  into 
my  room.  He  was  followed  by  a  strapping  fel- 
low, almost  a  giant,  armed  with  a  huge  two-handed 
sword.  They  had  scarcely  entered  my  room  when 
I  saw  the  patroon  behind  them  upon  the  balcony 
just  outside  the  window. 

"Be  quick,"  he  said  in  an  undertone.  "He  may 
wake  at  any  moment." 

The  giant  who  had  followed  Louis  stepped  for- 
ward at  this  command  from  his  chief.  He  stopped 
three  feet  from  the  side  of  the  bed.  I  could  see 
him  outlined  against  the  window  though  it  must 
have  been  all  dark  to  him.  He  poised  the  great 
clumsy  weapon  for  a  minute,  and  then  swung  it 
about  his  head.  The  blade  sang  through  the  air 
and  fell  across  my  bed  with  a  deep  thud.  But 
for  Meg  I  should  have  been  lying  there ! 

"My  God !"  shrieked  the  giant;  and  I  never  heard 
such  agony  in  a  human  voice. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  the  patroon  in  alarm,  at  the 
same  time  springing  into  the  room. 

"There  is  no  one  here,"  answered  the  man  who 
had  made  this  attack  upon  my  bed. 

"So  much  the  worse  for  you,"  returned  his  mas- 
ter.    "Quick;  we  must  get  out  of  here.     He  is 


188    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

probably  down  stairs  upon  the  terrace.  He  may 
come  back." 

Then  I  beheld  a  scene  the  meaning  of  which  I 
could  but  guess.  The  fellow  who,  from  his  size, 
could  have  overmatched  both  the  patroon  and  the 
dwarf,  cast  away  his  sword,  which  fell  with  a  loud 
clash  upon  the  wooden  floor.  He  forgot  all  caution 
in  his  abject  terror.  He  threw  himself  before  the 
patroon  and  clung  to  his  knees. 

"Mercy,  mercy,"  he  pleaded.     "Have  mercy." 

"Hush,"  answered  his  master.  "I  offered  you  life 
for  life.  The  man  is  not  here.  It  cannot  be.  You 
are  doomed." 

"I  cannot  die,  I  cannot  die,  I  cannot  die,"  he 
wailed. 

Louis  sprang  to  the  fellow's  side  and  clapped 
his  hand  over  his  mouth  to  smother  his  cries.  Then 
the  three  men  prepared  to  leave  the  room  as  they 
had  come,  by  the  window.  The  patroon  went  first. 
He  walked  backward,  holding  his  drawn  sword 
before  him.  Louis  was  in  the  rear,  dragging  the 
great  weapon  that  the  murderer  had  cast  away.  I 
was  soon  to  behold  with  horror  the  sequel  to  this 
scene,  from  which  I  had  so  narrowly  escaped  with 
my  life.  As  yet,  however,  I  could  but  guess  the 
meaning  of  it. 

For  the  benefit  of  those  who  are  not  familiar 
with  the  history  of  those  times,  I  must  repeat  what 
I  have  already  hinted  in  regard  to  the  powers  of 
the  patroons.    They  were  much  like  the  barons  oi 


"FIRE  AND  SLEETE"  189 

the  middle  ages.  They  possessed,  among  other 
rights,  the  right  to  hold  court,  to  try  and  condemn 
the  persons  who  lived  on  their  estate.  It  was  not 
till  later  that  I  learned  that  Patroon  Van  Volken- 
berg  had  burst  all  bounds  in  this  respect,  and  had 
carried  this  right  so  far  that  only  his  influence  upon 
the  island  prevented  a  direct  accusation  from  Bella- 
mont.  The  patroons  throughout  the  province  saw 
with  chagrin  the  growing  power  of  the  governor. 
It  was  their  hope  to  end  this  for  all  time  by  some 
means,  as  yet  not  decided  upon.  Van  Volken- 
berg  alone,  among  them  all,  had  had  the  courage 
to  come  out  boldly  and  arm  his  household.  This 
was,  to  his  mind,  the  only  way  to  advance  the 
power  of  his  class.  The  Red  Band  was  the  result. 
How  it  failed  we  shall  learn  in  the  following  pages. 
When  the  time  came  for  it  to  fall,  it  fell  com- 
pletely. Not  a  blot  of  it  was  left  to  cumber  the 
earth.  Even  in  my  own  day  people  have  forgotten 
it.  Only  now  and  then  do  I  find  anyone  who  re- 
members the  Red  Band,  and  the  rising  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  the  fate  of  the  patroon.  But  there  are 
things  in  that  old  story  of  a  past  time  that  should 
be  told,  and  therefore  it  is  that  I  have  set  down 
this  narrative  to  preserve  a  chronicle  that  has  dis- 
appeared from  the  pages  of  history  so  completely 
that  there  are  some  who  doubt  its  very  existence. 
The  patroon,  then,  carried  his  fancied  powers  to 
the  limits  of  life  and  death.  On  the  afternoon  of 
my  arrival  at  Van  Volkenberg  manor,  the  man 


190        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

who  had  visited  my  room  in  company  with  the  pa- 
troon  and  his  henchman  in  the  dead  of  night,  had 
been  convicted  of  a  misdemeanor  worthy  of  death. 
He  was  not  tried  by  a  regular  court  such  as  the 
patroon  was  by  law  entitled  to  hold.  His  offense 
was  a  violation  of  one  of  the  laws  of  the  Red 
Band;  and  by  the  Red  Band  he  was  condemned 
to  die.  When  I  understood  these  facts  at  a  later 
date,  I  had  little  trouble  in  understanding  what 
had  taken  place  in  my  room.  The  patroon  had 
bribed  him  to  kill  me.  The  fellow's  reward  was 
freedom,  escape  from  the  sentence  of  the  Red  Band. 
How  the  patroon  would  have  made  it  right  with 
his  followers  I  do  not  know;  but  so  much  must 
have  been  true.  However,  I  am  getting  ahead 
of  my  story.  When  they  left  me  I  knew  nothing 
of  this.  Nor,  for  a  while,  could  I  even  guess  at 
the  meaning  of  what  began  to  take  place  outside 
my  window  in  front  of  the  great  terrace  before  the 
house. 

Two  men  came  out  bearing  upon  their  shoulders 
bundles  of  articles  which  I  did  not  recognize  till 
they  were  stuck  upright  in  the  ground  at  regular 
intervals.  They  were  the  cressets  which  I  had  seen 
burning  on  the  first  night  when  I  came  accidentally 
upon  the  Red  Band  at  drill.  Soon  they  were  all 
ablaze.  Then  members  of  the  Red  Band  began 
to  gather  by  twos  and  threes,  walking  back  and 
forth  within  the  hollow  square  of  light.    Some  were 


"FIRE  AND  SLEETE"  191 

talking;  others  were  singing;  all  of  them  seemed 
to  be  under  some  strain  that  needed  shaking  off. 

At  last,  when  there  were  so  many  of  them  that 
I  lost  all  count,  they  began  to  range  themselves 
in  an  orderly  fashion,  facing  the  house.  The  lights 
flared  fitfully,  showing  me  how  serious  every  face 
was.  Still  I  was  ignorant  of  what  was  going  to 
happen. 

I  had  in  the  meantime  strolled  out  upon  the 
terrace.  It  was  not  long  before  the  patroon  came 
out  also.  He  saw  me,  nodded  pleasantly,  and  faced 
the  band.  What  he  said  to  them  partially  ex- 
plained the  situation. 

"Men  of  the  Red  Band:  By  your  own  decree, 
Ronald  Guy  has  been  adjudged  guilty  of  violation 
of  our  laws,  and  is  therefore  worthy  of  death.  The 
hour  of  execution  has  come.  Let  the  chosen  ten 
step  forward." 

Ten  men  stepped  forward  from  the  front  rank 
of  the  company.  Then,  as  they  drew  near  the  ter- 
race, I  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  ten  muskets 
were  lying  there  side  by  side.  Each  man  took  up 
one  of  the  muskets. 

"Only  one  of  these  weapons  is  loaded  to  kill," 
said  the  patroon.  "The  executioner  will  not  know 
himself.    Let  each  of  you  aim  as  if  he  did." 

There  was  a  short  silence  after  that,  broken  only 
by  the  crackHng  of  the  fire  in  the  cressets;  next 
the  sound  of  feet  coming.  A  slow,  steady  tramp 
sounded  along  the  hall.     It  came  nearer,  funereal 


192    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

in  its  slowness.  It  sent  the  cold  streaking  down  my 
back  and  I  shuddered  at  the  thought.  They  were 
bringing  him  to  his  death.  He  was  blindfolded, 
but  I  knew  him  by  his  size.  He  had  tried  to  take 
my  life.  I  do  not  know  what  else  he  had  done. 
Perhaps  he  merited  death.  In  that  dreadful  mo- 
ment I  bore  him  no  ill-will  for  what  he  had  tried 
to  do  to  me.  Death  is  death,  and  the  cold-blooded 
savagery  of  this  scene  was  appalling. 

While  the  condemned  man  was  being  brought 
forward  the  patroon  was  stern  and  silent.  There 
was  no  token  of  remorse  in  his  face.  He  betrayed 
no  embarrassment  when  our  eyes  met.  His  cursed 
band  of  troopers  was  silent  and  still  like  so  many 
statues.  Now  and  then  I  would  see  an  eye  blink 
that  was  turned  just  right  to  reflect  the  light.  I 
saw  no  other  sign  of  life,  though  once  I  thought 
the  whole  band  took  breath  together. 

This  execution  in  the  dead  of  night  was  a  cruel 
scene.  The  air  was  still.  The  wild  flames  of  the 
sputtering  torches  was  like  hell.  They  sent  long- 
shadows  leaping  into  the  dark  to  lose  themselves 
in  the  forest  beyond.  Nothing  is  so  mysterious  and 
so  ghastly  as  many  human  beings  crowded  close 
together,  and  always  still,  still,  still  as  death.  The 
strain  of  what  I  looked  upon  became  almost  unen- 
durable. I  wanted  to  cry  out.  I  wanted  to  say 
they  should  not  do  it.  In  a  moment  I  should  have 
shrieked.  But  relief  came  from  an  unexpected 
source. 


"FIRE  AND  SLEETE"  193 

The  prisoner  was  told  to  stand  still.  The  pa- 
troon  made  a  sign  to  the  chosen  ten.  They  lifted 
their  muskets  to  fire.  I  gripped  tight  hold  of  the 
raihng  in  front  of  me.  I  shrank  back  and  closed  my 
eyes.  The  next  moment  I  should  hear  the  quick 
report  of  the  guns  and  smell  the  deadly  powder. 

Instead,  a  shrill  owl-hoot  broke  upon  the  air.  It 
was  a  common  sound  in  those  parts,  but  it  came 
so  unexpectedly,  when  everyone  was  so  keyed  up, 
that  one  cry  broke  from  the  strained  band  of 
troopers.  But  it  was  no  owl-hoot  after  all,  only 
an  imitation.  It  was  followed  immediately  by  the 
uncanny  voice  of  crazy  Meg: 

"Fire  and  sleete  and  candle-light, 
And  Christ  receive  your  soul." 

"Fire,"  shouted  the  patroon. 

The  rifles  crashed  on  the  frosty  air.  A  dull  thud 
followed.  When  I  looked  up,  Ronald  lay  huddled 
in  a  heap.  I  put  my  hand  over  my  eyes  to  shut 
out  the  sight.  When  I  looked  again,  Meg  was  at 
his  side  singing. 

"Is  there  ony  room  at  your  head,  Ronald? 
Is  there  ony  room  at  your  feet? 
Is  there  ony  room  at  your  side,  Ronald? 
Where  fain,  fain  I  wad  sleep?" 

I  was  not  the  only  person  who  had  been  strained 
beyond  endurance  by  the  excitement  of  that  mo- 


194         PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

ment.  The  patroon  had  lost  his  wits.  He  sprang 
to  the  old  woman's  side. 

"Stop  your  nonsense,  hag." 

Again  she  threw  back  her  head  in  that  peculiar, 
dog-like  way. 

"Haud  your  tongue,  ye  auld-faced  knight, 
Some  ill  death  may  ye  die! 
Father  my  bairn  on  whom  I  will, 
I'll  father  nane  on  thee." 

He  doubled  up  his  fist  and  struck  her  square  in 
the  mouth.  Like  a  pack  of  wolves  the  troopers 
fell  in  with  their  master's  lead.  They  began  to 
howl  about  her.  One  gripped  her  by  the  hair  and 
pulled  her  down.  Two  others  caught  her  by  the 
legs  to  drag  her  across  the  terrace.  God  forgive 
them,  they  hardly  knew  what  they  did !  I  was  struck 
with  horror,  then  with  surprise.  For  Louis  Van 
Ramm  sprang  like  a  snake  upon  his  master  and 
caught  him  by  the  throat. 

"Call  off  your  dogs,"  he  yelled.  "Call  off  your 
dogs  or  I'll  strangle  you." 

The  patroon  obeyed  him  like  a  child.  It  was 
all  he  could  do  to  control  his  followers.  It  was 
a  grand  sight  to  see  the  old  man  plow  fearlessly 
among  them,  and  try  to  undo  what  he  had  done. 
He  battled  his  way  inch  by  inch  to  Meg's  side. 
Soon  his  influence  began  to  tell.  The  tumult 
stilled  apace.  One  by  one  the  troopers  slunk  away. 
Before  long  we  were  all  alone. 


"FIRE  AND  SLEETE"  195 

"Meg,"  said  the  patroon  with  almost  a  touch 
of  tenderness  in  his  voice.     "Meg,  are  you  hurt?" 

The  prostrate  woman  raised  herself  upon  her  el- 
bow. "And  if  ye  dare  to  kiss  my  lips,"  she  sang, 
"sure  of  your  bodie  I  will  be." 

"For  God's  sake,"  cried  the  patroon.  "Will  she 
never  have  done  with  that?" 

He  threw  up  his  arms  and  staggered  backward 
towards  the  house.  His  daughter  was  there  to 
meet  him  in  the  doorway.  She  put  her  arm  about 
him  and  supported  him  away.  He  seemed  to  have 
gone  suddenly  senseless. 

My  first  care  w^as  the  old  woman.  She  was  un- 
hurt, though  overcome  by  the  nervous  shock.  I 
carried  her  to  a  place  of  safety,  the  little  dwarf 
following  us  like  a  faithful  dog.  When  we  had 
revived  the  old  woman,  he  and  I  returned  to  bury 
Ronald  Guy.  All  the  other  members  of  the  band 
had  disappeared  as  if  they  were  afraid  to  remain 
on  the  scene  of  their  lawless  deed.  We  had  closed 
the  grave  and  were  about  to  part,  when  Louis  put 
out  his  hand. 

"I  shall  not  tell  you  what  we  have  been  doing 
to-night,"  he  said.  "But  I  swear,  before  God,  here- 
after to  be  your  good  friend." 

With  that  he  went  back  to  old  Meg,  and  I  re- 
turned to  my  room. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY 

Considering  the  events  of  that  night,  one  may 
be  tempted  to  suppose  that  I  lay  awake  for  a  long 
time  in  restless  anxiety.  But  I  did  no  such  thing. 
I  had  had  a  hard  day  of  it,  and,  in  addition  to  that, 
my  personal  sorrow  and  the  reaction  from  what 
I  had  passed  through,  so  overcame  me  that  I  fell 
into  a  kind  of  stupor,  and  slept  without  undressing. 
:When  I  awoke  in  the  morning  it  was  broad  day. 
The  room,  however,  was  not  bright,  for  the  shut- 
ters, which  had  been  open  when  I  went  to  bed,  had 
blown  together  during  the  night.  A  sheet  of  dusty 
sunlight  slanted  through  the  room.  I  lay  half 
awake,  half  asleep,  watching  the  shadow^s  fold  like 
tapestry  in  the  sunbeams.  I  tried  to  see  pictures 
in  them  as  one  does  in  the  clouds  of  a  summer's 
night;  and  soon  I  found  myself  dwelling  upon  the 
grotesque  features  of  the  dwarf,  and  on  the  words 
he  had  spoken  to  me  when  we  parted  the  night 
before. 

"I  shall  not  tell  you  what  we  have  been  doing," 
he  had  said.  ''But  I  swear,  before  God,  hereafter 
to  be  your  true  friend." 

I  knew  that  he  had  spoken  the  truth.  A  few 
moments  before  he  had  been  engaged  in  an  at- 

196 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY         197j 

tempt  to  take  my  life;  yet,  when  he  said  these 
words,  his  voice  rang  with  unmistakable  sincerity. 
He  looked  me  in  the  face,  which  is  not  the  way  of 
a  liar,  and  the  expression  in  his  face  was  the  ex- 
pression of  truth  itself.  Of  this  fact  I  was  mortally 
certain.  What  had  I  done  to  make  his  feeling 
change  towards  me?  We  had  had  but  a  small  mat- 
ter of  words.  I  had  helped  him  to  carry  poor  old 
Meg  to  a  place  of  safety.  What  else  had  I  done? 
"Ha!"  thought  I.  "It  was  she  who  first  warned 
me  of  my  danger."  Could  it  be  that  there  was 
some  connection  between  these  two,  some  unex- 
plained relation  that  would  put  a  new  light  upon 
the  small  kindness  I  had  shown  her?  I  sprang 
to  my  feet.  Then  I  discovered — for  I  had  come 
fully  awake  at  last — that  the  door  of  my  room  was 
shut  tight  and  barred  on  the  outside. 

I  fell  into  a  rage.  Had  they  not  done  enough 
the  night  before?  Was  this  some  new  trap  they 
had  laid  for  me?  I  beat  and  banged  upon  the  floor. 
I  kicked  viciously  against  the  door.  It  did  not 
take  much  of  this  to  bring  a  response.  There  was 
a  clattering  of  feet  in  the  corridor  without,  the  bolt 
was  quickly  drawn  back  and  then  the  door  flew 
open.  In  the  hallway  opposite  my  door  stood  the 
patroon.  The  white-haired  dwarf,  peering  beneath 
his  arm,  was  making  strange  faces  at  me  from  his 
half-sheltered  position  behind  his  master's  back. 
Did  he  mean  them  for  signs  of  warning?    Beyond 


198    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

these  two  clustered  half  a  dozen  surprised  do- 
mestics. 

Van  Volkenberg  gazed  at  me  for  a  moment  and 
then  burst  into  a  fit  of  hearty  laughter. 

''So  they  locked  you  in,  did  they?  Ha,  ha,  ha! 
I  forgot  to  tell  them  that  there  was  a  new  lodger 
in  the  house.    We  forgot  it,  eh,  Louis?" 

He  spoke  with  his  usual  precision,  as  if  reciting  a 
lesson.  There  was  no  light  in  his  eyes  and  the 
moment  he  was  done  talking  his  face  became  stolid 
and  set  like  one  who  has  said  his  part  and  was 
glad  to  be  done  with  it.  The  patroon  was  a  good 
actor,  and  yet  there  were  times  when  a  child  could 
see  through  his  artifice.  As  he  turned  to  the  dwarf, 
Louis'  face,  which  a  moment  before  had  been 
strangely  contorted,  instantly  grew  impassive.  I 
conceived  the  idea  that  he  had  been  making  signs, 
wishing  to  convey  some  secret  intelligence  to  me. 
Whereupon  I  resolved  to  give  him  a  chance  to 
speak  to  me  in  private  if  he  chose  to  do  so. 

"By  my  soul,  St.  Vincent !"  exclaimed  the  pa- 
troon.    "You  have  slept  late." 

"Have  I?  Indeed,  I  do  not  know  what  time 
it  is,"  I  answered,  scarce  knowing  what  to  say. 
The  patroon  was  so  ill  at  ease,  so  manifestly  acting 
a  part,  that  I  knew  it  behooved  me  to  be  care- 
ful and  not  to  lose  my  temper. 

"It  is  hard  upon  the  hour  of  noon,"  he  continued. 
"Come,  come;  you  shall  break  your  fast  royally 
despite  the  hour." 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY  199 

We  set  out  along  the  corridor,  which  was  dimly 
lighted  and  echoed  the  sound  of  our  footsteps  in 
a  gloomy  manner.  This  was  the  time  to  test  the 
dwarf,  and  to  find  out  what  he  had  to  communicate 
to  me. 

"I  have  forgotten  my  sword,"  I  cried  to  him. 
''Will  you  fetch  it?" 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  the  dwarf  started 
back  towards  my  room.  I  can  see  him  yet,  almost 
running  in  his  quick,  mincing  steps,  his  half-bent 
arms  dipping  to  the  same  time,  and  his  ill-shaped 
head  and  flowing  locks  of  white  hair  all  bobbing 
together  in  unison.  Yet  for  all  this  apparent  haste 
he  progressed  no  faster  than  an  ordinary  walk. 

T  let  him  proceed  but  a  short  distance  when  I 
made  some  excuse  to  the  patroon  and  followed  his 
henchman  to  my  room.  When  I  got  there,  Louis 
w^as  already  bending  over  my  bed,  where  my  sword 
lay.  One  arm  was  up  and  one  heel  slightly  off 
the  ground,  as  if  he  had  suddenly  been  arrested  in 
the  midst  of  his  capricious  way  of  walking.  I 
touched  him  on  the  shoulder  and  he  collapsed  with 
startled  fear.  Evidently  he  had  not  heard  me  ap- 
proach. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "that  was  a  strange  promise 
you  made  to  me  last  night.  What  did  you  mean 
by  it?" 

Suddenly  his  whole  figure  was  transformed.  I 
saw  this  change  often  in  the  next  few  weeks,  but 
then  it  was  new  to  me  and  almost  took  my  breath 


200    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

away.  When  Louis  walked  he  seemed  all  joints 
and  quivering  elastic  bands.  Now,  like  a  flash,  he 
turned  to  stone — nay,  to  steel  and  iron.  Every 
tremor  of  his  body  vanished.  Every  line  in  his 
face,  the  very  droop  of  his  hair  made  one  feel  as 
if  the  Gorgon's  head  had  been  thrust  before  him. 
Then  he  gripped  my  hand,  and  I  winced  inwardly 
from  the  pain  of  it. 

"Hush,"  he  whispered,  "You  can  trust  me.  She 
is  my  mother.  Hark !  The  patroon  is  coming 
back.  Let  me  warn  you  hastily.  There  is  distrust 
here.  Do  not  start  whatever  you  may  hear  down 
stairs.  Beware,  you  are  treading  on  a  powder  mine. 
Believe  me.  I  am  your  friend.  She  is  my  mother. 
Let  that  suffice  for  reason." 

That  moment  the  patroon  returned.  Louis  be- 
gan helping  me  to  buckle  on  my  sword.  In  a 
moment  all  his  rigidity  had  disappeared  and  his 
old  manner  returned  to  him.  I  had  no  time  then 
to  think  of  the  suspicion  he  had  referred  to,  for 
the  patroon  led  me  down  stairs  to  the  dining  room 
at  once.  As  we  traversed  the  corridor  for  the  sec- 
ond time,  I  could  hear  Louis'  pattering  steps  behind 
us  like  a  faithful  dog;  and  in  my  mind's  eye  I  saw 
his  wagging  head  and  bent  arms  keeping  time  to 
his  nimble  step. 

As  I  say,  we  went  below,  but  had  hardly  en- 
tered the  dining  room  when  Mistress  Miriam  darted 
into  it.  She  was  bonneted,  dressed  in  riding  clothes, 
and  her  cheeks  were  flushed  with  exercise. 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY  201 

"Oh,  father,"  she  cried  passionately,  "Mon- 
sieur Le  Bourse  is  dead." 

"Dead !"  echoed  the  patroon. 

At  that  moment  I  felt  Louis  Van  Ramm's  fingers 
close  on  my  wrist  like  a  vise.  In  an  instant  he 
relaxed  his  grip,  for  the  patroon  turned  to  look 
at  me. 

"You  are  pale,"  he  said  abruptly.  "You  should 
be  hungry." 

But  of  the  two,  he  must  have  been  the  paler. 

However,  he  would  have  nothing  more  to  say  to 
me  till  I  had  eaten.  I  was  not  sorr}^,  for,  in  very 
truth,  I  was  as  hungry  as  a  bear,  and  the  silence 
that  followed  gave  me  time  to  think  over  what  had 
happened. 

Evidently  Louis's  warning  and  the  locking  of  my 
door  were  pieces  of  the  same  cloth.  No  doubt  of 
Louis's  honesty  came  into  my  mind.  I  knew  by 
an  experience  I  had  had  in  France  that  a  deformed 
person  like  this  dwarf  was  likely,  however  vicious 
he  might  be  at  heart,  to  feel  a  dog-like  attachment 
to  any  one  who  had  befriended  him.  The  fact 
that  Meg  was  his  mother  was  enough  to  justify 
my  behef  in  his  honesty.  I  felt  now  that,  beyond 
peradventure,  I  might  trust  in  him.  But  the  sus- 
picion he  had  warned  me  against — what  was  that? 
What  could  it  be  but  that  I  was  discovered?  I  re- 
called the  fact  that  both  Lady  Marmaduke  and 
Pierre  had  recognized  me.     Had  the  patroon?     I 


202    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

confess  to  trembling  at  the  moment,  and  I  looked 
up  to  see  if  I  were  noticed. 

"Your  hand  trembles,"  said  the  patroon.  Trust 
him  for  seeing  everything  that  was  in  sight ! 

"Trembles,"  I  answered.     "Which?" 

"Your  right,"  he  replied,  with  a  vicious  smile 
on  his  dark  features. 

I  stretched  my  right  hand  out  before  him  as 
steady  as  his  own, 

"Mere  accident,"  I  said,  careful  not  to  show 
either  too  much  disregard  or  too  much  interest  in 
what  he  had  just  said,  "What  made  you  think  so,  or 
did  it  really  tremble  for  an  instant?" 

"I  thought  it  did,  Le  Bourse,  but  I  may  have 
been  mistaken." 

I  fell  to  eating  savagely.  He  had  called  me  by 
my  right  name!  Ah,  yes;  Louis  was  right.  That 
was  his  master's  suspicion,  was  it?  But  now  I  was 
fully  warned.  He  should  not  catch  me  napping. 
I  paid  no  attention  to  his  remark  and  went  on  eat- 
ing. This  behavior  seemed  to  reassure  the  patroon. 
When  I  next  looked  up  he  wore  a  more  satisfied 
expression.  His  elbows  were  on  the  edge  of  the 
table  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  tips  of  his  fingers, 
which  were  tapping  each  other  softly. 

"Now  you  are  done  eating,"  he  said  at  last,  "let 
us  hear  her  story.     Miriam,  tell  us  of  your  visit." 

I  then  learned  that,  for  some  reason  unknown  to 
herself.  Mistress  Van  Volkenberg  had  been  sent 
by  her  father  to  Lady  Marmaduke's,  in  New  York. 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY         203 

Her  errand  was  to  inquire  my  whereabouts.  She 
was  told  at  the  hall  that  I  was  dead  and  that  my 
body  lay  in  the  small  room  upstairs,  which  had 
been  mine. 

"Ay,  but  was  he  dead?"  interrupted  her  father. 
"Did  you  see  him,  Miriam?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered.  "I  saw  him.  Oh !"  She 
shuddered  and  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

Mistress  Van  Volkenberg,  then  almost  unknown 
to  me,  was  a  woman  who  could  not  pass  unnoticed 
in  any  place.  She  was  tall  and  slender,  with  a  high 
forehead  and  piercing  brown  eyes  like  her  father's. 
What  most  characterized  her,  however,  was  the 
color  in  her  cheeks.  I  have  seen  her  since  in  sick- 
ness and  in  health,  and  always  there  was  the  same 
color  of  blooming  red,  which  was  the  more  wel- 
come for  the  beauty  it  gave  her  face.  She  was 
flushed,  perhaps  overflushed,  when  she  left  the 
room,  and  both  the  patroon  and  I  noticed  it. 

"Poor  child,"  he  said  softly  with  a  yearning  look 
in  his  eyes.  "She  has  had  too  much  excitement.  I 
should  not  have  sent  her." 

Van  Volkenberg  had  little  to  say  for  a  while. 
He  was  wholly  taken  up  with  the  news  his  daughter 
had  brought.  Often  he  would  be  in  a  brown  study 
for  minutes  at  a  time.  I  said  nothing  to  rouse  him, 
for  I  was  bound  that  he  should  lead  our  conver- 
sation till  I  should  be  less  in  the  dark  as  to  what  he 
knew  about  me.  At  last  he  seemed  to  notice  how 
evident  his  moody  conduct  was. 


204    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"This  man  Le  Bourse,"  he  said,  at  the  same  time 
bending  his  bright  eyes  upon  my  face  as  if  he  would 
read  me  through  and  through,  "this  man,  Le 
Bourse,  was  a  man  I  wished  to  see.  Alas  the  while! 
I  wish  he  were  yet  alive." 

"A  friend  of  yours?"  I  asked,  mustering  my  voice 
as  well  as  I  could.  I  knew  instinctively  that  I  was 
under  examination. 

"No,  hardly  a  friend;  and  yet  I  owed  him  some 
reparation  for  an  injury.    I  wish  he  were  here." 

"There  is  no  fetching  dead  men  back  to  life,"  I 
said.    And  then  I  added:    "At  least  in  the  flesh." 

"He  will  not  haunt  me,  if  that  is  what  you 
mean." 

The  patroon  walked  thoughtfully  across  the 
room,  and  stood  for  some  time  with  his  back 
towards  me,  looking  out  of  the  window  across  the 
broad  terrace  where  I  had  seen  Ronald  Guy  and 
the  execution  the  night  before.  I  could  see  his 
figure  relax  and  droop  a  little, 

"Alas,  poor  Guy,"  I  heard  him  mutter.  He  could 
afford  to  pity,  now  that  it  was  all  over. 

Then  his  figure  against  the  lighted  window  stif- 
fened and  he  seemed  to  gather  strength  again.  Two 
minutes  later,  when  he  turned  to  face  us  once  more, 
he  was  quite  himself.  The  night  before  I  had  asked 
myself  a  question;  now  I  was  ready  to  answer  it. 
Yes,  there  were  two  actors  in  Van  Volkenberg 
manor.    I  was  one.    The  other  was  the  patroon. 

And  from  that  moment  I  conceived  a  fair  notion 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY         205 

of  how  the  ground  lay  between  us.  Perhaps  he 
knew  me,  perhaps  not;  but,  at  any  rate,  he  sus- 
pected me,  and  this  was  like  to  prove  my  ruin.  I 
recalled  just  then  one  of  the  war  cries  of  the  English 
revolution  that  my  father  used  to  talk  so  much 
about.  The  King  and  the  parliament  were  pitted 
one  against  the  other  till  the  bitter  end.  It  was  the 
great  church  hero,  Cromwell,  so  my  father  used  to 
say,  who  first  foresaw  what  the  end  was  going  to  be. 
Then  grew  up  that  motto,  "Thy  head  or  my  head," 
which  neither  Roundhead  nor  Cavalier  forgot  for 
many  years. 

Thus  it  was  between  Van  Volkenberg  and  me. 
Disclaim  superstition  as  I  would,  I  could  not  resist 
the  idea  that  fate  had  had  a  hand  in  our  first  meet- 
ing and  had  molded  subsequent  events.  Van  Vol- 
kenberg, as  I  learned  later,  regarded  me  with  even 
greater  superstition  than  I  felt  towards  him. 
Though  I  managed  to  allay  his  suspicions  for  a 
while,  he  never  seemed  quite  free  in  my  presence, 
even  when  he  took  me  into  his  confidence  and  made 
me  his  right  hand  man. 

As  I  said,  he  turned  towards  us  from  the  window 
overlooking  the  terrace,  and  his  manner  was  quite 
composed. 

"Come  to  my  room,"  he  said  cheerily.  "I  have 
something  of  importance  to  say  to  you.  You  may 
come,  too,"  he  added  to  the  dwarf. 

We  went  to  the  room  where  he  had  first  received 
me  when  I  came  to  the  manor-house  to  present  my 


206    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

silver  buttons.  I  glanced  warily  around  the  room. 
There  were  the  books  and  the  maps  on  the  walls, 
the  table  littered  with  papers,  and  the  windows  on 
one  side  flooding  the  center  of  the  room  with  light. 
I  was  with  my  face  to  the  window  and  the  patroon 
stood  opposite  me. 

"Sit." 

As  he  jerked  out  the  short  monosyllable,  he 
waved  his  hand  to  Louis  and  me.  The  dwarf 
climbed  into  a  huge  chair  and  collapsed  loosely  into 
a  heap  till  you  would  hardly  have  recognized  in  him 
a  human  being. 

The  patroon,  however,  made  a  more  striking 
figure.  He  was  dressed  all  in  black,  save  for  the 
crimson  cap  he  always  wore  in  the  house,  and  the 
pale  lace  about  his  neck  and  wrists.  His  long  black 
coat  was  trimmed  in  silver  buttons  artificially  dark- 
ened till  they  were  of  a  deep  grey.  His  knee 
breeches  and  hose  were  also  black.  His  shoes,  in- 
stead of  being  fastened  with  huge  silver  buttons,  as 
was  the  custom,  were  tied  with  narrow  black  rib- 
bons. His  black  robes  set  ofif  his  silvery  hair — pre- 
maturely white  through  trouble  and  disease — with 
superb  effect.  The  only  other  bit  of  color  about 
him  was  the  gold  head  of  his  ebony  cane,  which 
he  held  between  his  thumb  and  forefinger,  as  if  he 
were  about  to  lift  it  lightly  from  the  floor. 

But  all  this  description  of  how  the  patroon  looked 
is  the  result  of  a  moment's  glance  and  after  recol- 
lection.    For  almost  in  an  instant  I  forgot  every- 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY         207 

thing,  and  saw  only  those  eagle  eyes  like  jewels 
gazing  at  me.  Was  it  the  dove  and  the  serpent  over 
again?  No,  no,  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg.  You 
have  a  man  to  deal  with  this  time.  "Thy  head  or 
my  head,"  saith  the  King. 

At  last  he  spoke  to  me. 

"If  you  are  to  cut  a  figure  in  the  Red  Band,  you 
must  know  somewhat  of  my  affairs.  I  spoke  a  while 
ago  of  a  man  Le  Bourse."  He  kept  his  eyes  fiercely 
on  me.  "I  have  cause  to  hate  this  dog,  for  I  hold 
him  little  better  than  a  dog.  If  I  ever  have  him  in 
arm's  reach — you  saw  how  I  dealt  with  Ronald 
Guy?" 

"Yes,  I  saw  it.  What  is  your  grievance  against 
Le  Bourse?" 

"I  have  done  him  wrong." 

"Therefore  you  would  do  him  more?" 

"Is  not  that  logic?  I  would  break  him  upon  the 
rack.    Bah,  he  is  no  fool.    I  must  watch  him  close." 

"I  thought  he  was  dead." 

"Ay,  dead  if  not  alive.  Lately  he  had  the  im- 
pudence to  hang  about  that  very  window  and  spy 
upon  my  affairs." 

He  jerked'  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder,  but  he 
kept  his  eyes  on  me.  I  saw  through  his  plot  clearly. 
He  did  not  know  that  I  was  Le  Bourse,  but  he 
thought  so,  and  wanted  me  to  betray  myself.  I  was 
more  than  a  match  for  him,  however,  as  events  soon 
proved.  He  told  me  briefly  what  he  knew  of  my 
escapade  of  a  few  nights  before  and  how  it  led  up 


208    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

to  his  expulsion  from  the  privy-council.  All  the 
while  he  watched  me  narrowly,  though  now  and 
then  glancing  for  a  moment  at  Louis,  who  seemed 
more  asleep  than  awake  in  the  great  chair.  At  last 
the  patroon  let  his  cane  slip.  It  came  down  with  a 
startling  rattle  upon  the  floor,  and  when  he  picked 
it  up  again  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a  silent, 
sullen  manner.  He  was  evidently  at  the  end  of  his 
string  for  that  moment.  My  first  ordeal  was  over. 
He  had  tried  me  in  the  balance  and  found — nothing. 
Evidently  the  patroon  was  not  convinced  one  way 
or  the  other. 

He  did  not  wait  long  before  he  was  at  me  again. 
This  time  he  took  a  new  tack  that  was  harder  to 
resist  ten  times  over.  He  began  to  talk  about  Ruth. 
So  long  as  his  thrusts  were  aimed  at  me  alone  the 
game  was  in  my  own  hands.  But  he  played  strong 
cards  when  he  alluded  to  my  sister.  I  had  much 
ado  to  control  my  feelings.  He  must  have  seen  me 
wince  more  than  once.  But,  besides  an  angry  flush 
or  two,  or  a  sign  of  sullen  humor,  I  did  nothing  to 
increase  his  suspicions,  though,  on  the  other  hand, 
I  did  nothing  to  allay  them.  For  my  part,  I  was 
drawn  tight  as  a  harp  string.  I  felt  that  one  more 
twist  of  the  key  would  snap  me,  come  what  would. 
Then  it  all  ended  suddenly  and  in  a  marvelous 
way.  Just  as  I  was  at  my  wit's  end  for  self-control, 
I  heard  the  patroon  gasp  and  cry  out : 

"My  God,  St.  Vincent,  do  you  know  whom  I 
took  you  for?    I  thought  you  were  Le  Bourse." 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY         209 

They  say  it  is  nearly  a  hundred  years  since  the 
English  play  writer  wrote  his  Hamlet;  yet  it  is  so 
good  a  play  that  it  can  still  be  seen  upon  the  Lon- 
don stage.  I  well  remember  a  scene  in  it  where 
Hamlet  is  laying  what  he  calls  a  mouse-trap  to  catch 
his  uncle  Claudius.  Hamlet  has  the  players  play 
something  like  the  murder  of  his  father  before  the 
King.  Hamlet  thought  that  if  the  King  were  guilty 
he  would  betray  himself  by  some  sign.  Once  in 
dumb  show  and  once  in  real  acting  the  murder  was 
performed  before  the  King,  who  remained  calm 
and  silent,  betraying  no  sign  of  guilt.  This  failure 
of  his  plan  so  exasperated  Hamlet  that  he  broke 
down  himself  and  flew  into  hysterics  singing  little 
nonsense  songs.  In  the  confusion,  the  King  called 
for  a  light  and  took  his  leave.  But  I  could  see  from 
the  expression  of  his  face  that  another  moment 
would  have  broken  him. 

This  was  the  situation  of  the  patroon.  While  he 
had  been  piercing  me  with  one  prong  of  the  fork 
the  other  turned  and  twisted  among  his  own  nerves. 
It  was  when  my  calm  behavior  became  too  much 
for  him  that  he  broke  down  pitifully,  crying  that 
he  took  me  for  Le  Bourse.  Hardly  had  he  said  it 
than  he  repented;  but  it  was  too  late.  For  very 
shame  he  had  to  disguise  his  suspicion  now.  So 
he  carried  on  his  play-acting;  but  I  was  well  aware 
that  the  confidence  he  now  pretended  to  show  in 
me  was  acting  like  the  rest. 

"Well,  well,  well.    I'll  just  tell  you  all.    Henrie — 


210    PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

I'll  first  name  you  now  because  you  are  in  the  Red 
Band — Henrie,  do  you  know  how  near  you  were  to 
following  Ronald  Guy?  Ronald  was  a  good  man 
in  his  way,  but  there  was  no  obedience  in  his  bones. 
Louis,  whom  did  we  take  St.  Vincent  for?" 

The  dwarf  looked  at  me  for  a  full  minute  before 
he  said  a  word.    Then  he  replied : 

"We  took  you  for  Michael  Le  Bourse." 

"Ay,  that  we  did,"  continued  Van  Volkenberg. 
"Do  you  remember  Caesar?  We  set  him  on  your 
track  last  night.  Where  do  you  think  he  went? 
Straight  for  my  study  window  on  the  outside.  Per- 
haps you  don't  know  that  this  Michael  Le  Bourse 
stood  out  there  the  other  night — well,  if  he  were 
not  dead  he  should  feel  my  hand."  The  patroon's 
face  clouded  for  an  instant;  then  he  continued: 
"When  the  dog  went  there  I  thought  that  you  were 
Le  Bourse  in  disguise,  for  there  is  a  familiar  look 
about  your  eyes,  and  I  only  half  believed  your  story. 
But  Ronald's  business  pressed,  and  after  that  Louis 
held  out  that  it  was  all  a  mistake." 

"It  was,"  mumbled  the  dwarf. 

"Yes,  yes,  stick  to  it.  Louis  is  a  bulldog  to  his 
belief.  Nothing  would  suit  him  but  to  try  the 
hound  again.  This  time  he  led  us  a  long  chase  to 
a  place  where  Louis  had  met  some  friends  of  his 
by  Webber's  tavern — never  mind  who  they  were. 
Do  what  we  could,  the  hound  would  not  take  an- 
other scent.  So  Louis  stuck  out  that  there  was  no 
meaning  in  it  at  all,  and  I  had  to  give  in  to  him. 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY  211 

But  fast  on  that  came  a  report  that  you — I  mean, 
Le  Bourse — had  gone  post  for  Albany.  I'm  quick 
at  putting  two  and  two  together,  and  I  said  to 
Louis:  'Not  at  all.  He's  gone  post  to  the  Hang- 
ing Rock.'  It  came  close  to  going  hard  with  you 
then." 

"How  did  it  come  to  pass  otherwise?"  I  managed 
to  say  in  a  tolerably  firm  voice. 

"Let  Louis  tell.  It  was  his  doing.  Speak  up 
my  little  hawk." 

He  lifted  his  impassive  face  slowly.  "It  is  my 
habit  to  make  sure.  The  master  could  not  go.  The 
young  mistress  was  the  only  other  one  who  had 
seen  you.    I  said,  'Send  her.'  " 

"And  she  found  you  dead."  The  patroon  laughed 
loudly  at  his  joke.  "Yes,  she  found  you  dead.  So 
that  settled  my  doubts.  Here  is  my  hand.  Wel- 
come to  the  Red  Band." 

After  a  few  more  words  he  dismissed  the  dwarf 
in  order  to  talk  to  me  alone. 

"St.  Vincent,"  he  began,  "I  have  a  delicate  task 
for  you  to  undertake.  Doubtless  you  know  that  I 
and  my  household  are  in  bad  repute  in  Yorke.  You 
see,  this  putting  arms  into  the  hands  of  my  retainers 
is  a  new  custom  in  the  province.  We  patroons  are 
bound  to  get  the  power,  but  I  am  the  only  one 
who  has  had  the  courage  to  begin  in  the  proper 
way.  The  gossips  tell  strange  stories  about  me  and 
mine.  I  keep  them  away  from  the  ears  of  Miriam; 
but — God    bless    her! — she  loves  to  see  the  gay 


212        PAT  ROOM  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

sights  of  the  town.  I  shall  let  her  ride  to  Yorke 
this  afternoon  and  you  shall  ride  with  her.  Mind 
you  keep  her  ears  stuffed  with  wax  against  the 
common  murmur.     That  is  your  task." 

Towards  three  o'clock  I  stood  before  the  terrace 
beside  our  horses  awaiting  Mistress  Miriam's  com- 
ing out.  Soon  she  came.  The  blood  mantled  in 
her  cheek  and  she  drew  back  when  her  eyes  fell 
upon  me. 

"T  thought  I  should  go  alone  or  with  Annetje," 
she  said  to  her  father. 

'T  think  that  Monsieur  St.  Vincent  will  be  better 
company.  Pretty  maids  like  you  should  not  ride 
alone  nowadays." 

Whether  she  objected  to  riding  with  me,  or 
whether  she  suspected  that  I  was  set  as  a  spy  upon 
her,  one  could  not  have  told  from  anything  she  said 
or  did.  She  thanked  me  kindly,  so  kindly  for  my 
trouble,  that  I  did  not  feel  the  pain  of  her  refusal. 
She  bade  me  lead  her  horse  back  to  the  stable  and 
then  re-entered  the  house. 

I  had  hardly  taken  the  saddle  off  when  Louis 
came  in  all  apant  with  running. 

'Tut  it  on  again,"  he  cried.  "She  has  changed 
her  mind." 

I  resaddled  the  horse.  Five  minutes  later  Mis- 
tress Van  Volkenberg  stepped  upon  the  terrace. 
She  wore  the  same  riding  habit  as  before,  but  this 
time  she  wore  a  mask  that  concealed  her  features. 
When  I  helped  her  to  mount,  she  bowed  her  thanks, 


THE  EVENTS  OF  NEXT  DAY         213 

but  did  not  speak  to  me.  Soon  we  were  riding  at 
a  rapid  pace  through  the  park  towards  New  York. 

I  rode  behind  as  fitted  a  man  in  my  position. 
When  we  neared  the  Kissing  Bridge  she  reined  in 
her  horse  slowly  till  we  rode  side  by  side.  I  won- 
dered at  her  action.  Something  little  Pierre  had 
said  about  Annetje  and  the  way  she  always  made 
him  go  before  when  they  crossed  the  Kissing 
Bridge  caused  a  shadow  to  fill  my  heart.  Was  my 
young  mistress — ?  I  did  not  have  time  to  follow 
the  thought  further  before  she  laid  her  hand  upon 
my  bridle.  Both  horses  stopped  with  their  front 
feet  upon  the  bridge.  I  could  see  her  eyes  twinkling 
through  the  holes  in  her  mask. 

"Why  do  we  stop?"  I  asked. 

"Why  do  we  stop?  Why  don't  you — "  She  laid 
her  hand  lightly  upon  my  shoulder.  "Why  don't 
you  kiss  me?" 

I  started  back  suddenly.  My  companion  burst 
into  the  happiest,  merriest  peal  of  laughter  I  ever 
heard. 

"What  a  coward.    I  shall  tell  Pierre." 

With  that  she  snatched  ofif  her  mask.  To  my 
astonishment,  I  saw  the  dancing  black  eyes  of  my 
mistress'  maid,  Annetje  Dorn. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL 

My  astonishment  was  so  complete  that  several 
minutes  passed  before  I  could  find  voice  enough  to 
ask  what  this  deception  meant.  Annetje  soon, 
quieted  her  laughter  and  was  ready  to  explain. 

"My  dear  mistress,"  she  began,  "is  an  angel  out 
of  heaven.  She  is  always  making  chances  for  me 
to  see  Pierre.  To-day,  when  she  w^ould  not  go  to 
Yorke  with  you,  I  begged  her  to  let  me  go  in  her 
place.  She  is  so  sweet.  She  can  never  bear  to 
say  'no'  to  anything  unless  someone  does  wrong."' 

Annetje  indicated  what  would  happen  then  by  a 
disconsolate  shrug  of  her  shoulders. 

"I  don't  know  why  she  should  have  taken  such 
a  liking  to  you.  I  dare  say  now,  if  you  had  been 
here  longer — oh,  I  don't  mean  that  at  all.  I  think 
you  are  very — very —  Shall  we  ride  towards 
Yorke?" 

I  could  not  help  laughing  a  little  at  Annetje's 
embarrassment. 

"Mistress  Annetje,"  I  said. 

"I'm  a  bond-servant,  sir.  Plain  Annetje,  if  you 
please." 

"Plain  Annetje,  then,  what  is  your  purpose 
now?" 

"To  put  on  my  mask  again.     Now,  I  have  it 

214 


ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  215 

placed;  will  you  tie  it  in  the  back?  Look,  here  in 
my  face;  is  it  right?  Do  my  ears  show  under  the 
bottom?" 

All  this  occurred  on  the  Kissing  Bridge.  I  made 
sure  as  I  tied  Annetje's  ribbons  that  she  was  still 
chuckling  behind  her  mask,  though  she  spoke  like 
a  Puritan. 

"If  you  had  kissed  me  I  should  have  told  my 
mistress.  No  I  should  not,  neither.  We  never  do 
anything  she  does  not  like.  Do  you  know  how  you 
touched  her  heart  by  crying  over  that  dear  little 
Ruth  we  all  loved  so  much?  There  you  go  again. 
You  must  be  soft  indeed.  Mistress  was  telling  me 
all  about  it.  But  here  comes  Pierre;  I  knew  we 
should  meet  him." 

Sure  enough,  my  friend  Pierre  was  riding  on  the 
road  ahead  of  us,  and  would  meet  us  in  a  moment. 

"I  am  going  to  play  the  mistress,"  continued 
Annetje.  "You  two  must  ride  behind  me  just  the 
same." 

I  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  this  meeting 
with  Pierre.  It  was  not  his  custom,  as  I  knew  very 
well,  to  ride  a  good  horse.  He  could  not  be  here 
by  appointment  or  Annetje  would  not  try  to  fool 
him  as  to  who  she  really  was.  Perhaps  he  had  rid- 
den out  in  the  mere  hope  of  stumbling  across  me. 
He  was  on  a  horse  I  had  seen  in  the  Marmaduke 
stables,  which  fact  confirmed  me  in  this  opinion. 
Perhaps  he  had  matters  of  importance  for  my  ear. 

"Ha,  Pierre,"  I  heard  his  sweetheart  say  in  a  high 


216        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

unnatural  voice  as  they  passed,  "You  see  I  ride  in 
disguise  now.  Will  you  turn  and  accompany  us? 
I  have  a  new  groom.  Monsieur  St.  Vincent,  this  is 
Pierre,  the  barber." 

Pierre  looked  surprised.  Evidently  Annetje  was 
not  copying  with  success  her  gentle  mistress'  man- 
ner. She  seemed  to  know  this  fact,  for  her  next 
words  contained  a  half  apology  for  her  behavior. 

"Don't  look  amazed,  my  little  friend.  You  see 
I  have  a  disguise  to  keep  up  now,  and  I  practice 
by  the  way.  I  should  have  brought  Annetje  to 
accompany  me — ah,  you  wish  I  had?  My  father 
could  not  spare  us  both.  You  waste  too  much  time 
on  the  little  flirt,  Pierre." 

"She  is  severe  at  times,"  he  answered  mournfully, 
"I  sometimes  grow  so  weary  waiting  for  her  to 
come  round." 

"Bah !  You  are  a  milky  lover  to  say  so.  I'd  wait 
a  life-time  if  I  were  you.  Alas,  all  men  are  ahke! 
She  is  right  when  she  says  that  you  are  a  white- 
livered,  chicken-hearted  snip  of  a  coward  not  worth 
the  cheese  in  a  mousetrap.  Pooh,  you  are  a  fine 
lover.    Good  Lord  deliver  me !" 

"Oh,  Mistress  Miriam,  does  she  say  all  that?  If 
you  only  knew  how  I  do  everything  she  tells  me, 
and  stand  on  my  toes  from  morning  till  night  when 
she  is  around,  and  I  have  corns  to  boot,  and  fetch 
her  ribbons,  and  she  won't  even  cross  the  Kissing 
Bridge,  where  everybody  does  if  they  are  no  nearer 
than  half  a  mile." 


ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  217 

"To  the  kennels  with  your  love  if  that  is  all  it's 
worth." 

In  her  last  exclamation  Annetje  had  dropped  into 
her  natural  voice.  Pierre  was  so  down-hearted  that 
he  did  not  notice  the  change;  but  Annetje,  fearing 
to  expose  herself  further,  galloped  ahead  and  Pierre 
took  his  place  by  my  side.  As  for  me,  I  had  little 
enough  of  sympathy  for  him,  and  felt  more  in  a 
mood  for  laughing.  If  there  is  anything  on  this 
earth  I  cannot  abide  it  is  a  whiny  lover.  I  remem- 
ber once  a  fellow  whose  opinion  of  himself  was 
better  than  most  folks'  and  he  used  to  go  about 
from  morning  to  night  with  his  face  as  long  as  a 
cucumber  thinking  all  the  while  of  what  he  might 
have  been  doing  while  another  fellow  came  in  and 
ran  ofif  with  the  prize  before  his  eyes.  I  was  minded 
to  tell  Pierre  the  story  of  this  fellow  and  how  he 
went  into  a  decline  and  died  without  as  much  sym- 
pathy as  would  go  to  make  an  ordinary  case  of  the 
blues,  but  he  got  so  quick  to  work  upon  his  other 
concerns  that  I  forgot  all  about  it  till  the  time  w-as 
past. 

"This  is  an  odd  manner  for  the  young  mistress," 
he  said.  "But  I  suppose  she  is  glad  to  get  out 
again.  Annetje  says  that  the  patroon  keeps  her 
close.  I  told  her  that  I  should  ride  along  the  road 
here  every  day.  I  did  not  know  when  I  should  meet 
you,  but  I  knew  that  you  would  come  along  some 
day.    I  wish  Annetje  had  come." 


218        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"There  were  strange  happenings  at  the  manor- 
house  to-day,  Pierre." 

"So  there  were  at  Marmaduke  Hall.  I  was  walk- 
ing in  the  crowd  on  the  Slip  when  someone  put  his 
hand  into  my  pocket.  There  were  so  many  people 
that  I  could  not  make  out  who  it  was,  but  I  found 
that  he  had  left  your  letter  in  my  pocket." 

"My  letter !    In  your  pocket !" 

"Yes,  the  letter  you  wrote  last  night." 

"I  wrote  no  letter." 

"Yes  you  did.    I  received  it." 

"Not  from  me.    What  was  it  like?" 

"It  was  very  short  and  said  that  the  excuse  of 
going  to  Albany  would  not  do;  that  a  messenger 
was  coming  from  the  manor-house  to  inquire  after 
you  and  must  find  you  dead.  We  thought  it  a 
piece  of  foolery  at  first,  though  who  but  you  knew 
enough  to  write  the  letter.  But  first  thing  we  knew, 
Mistress  Miriam  rode  up  to  ask  where  you  were. 
Lady  Marmaduke  saw  her  coming  and  suspected 
that  the  letter  was  true.  So  she  rubbed  my  face 
with  flour,  found  me  a  false  beard  that  they  used 
to  act  with  when  they  gave  plays  there,  and  made 
me  into  your  corpse  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  If 
the  tender-hearted  mistress  had  not  been  full  of 
tears,  she  would  never  have  taken  me  for  you,  nor 
for  a  corpse  either,  for  I  jumped  when  one  of  her 
tears  fell  plump  into  my  eye.  She  just  turned  away, 
saying  something  about  your  sister  had  she  been 
alive." 


"ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  219 

I  stifled  a  sob  at  this.  Everyone  but  me  was  free 
to  mourn  aloud  for  Ruth. 

"I  sent  no  such  letter,  Pierre.  What  do  you 
suppose  it  means?" 

He  had  no  explanation  to  give  and  I  offered  none 
of  my  own.  But  I  knew  beyond  a  doubt  that  Louis 
was  true  to  his  word.  Who  but  Louis  could  have 
warned  the  Marmadukes  in  this  way?  If  he  had 
done  so,  then  he  must  know  who  I  was.  Verily  I 
was  on  slippery  ground,  but  there  I  was,  and  there 
was  neither  drawing  back  nor  going  forward  be- 
yond a  certain  pace,  and  that  pace  was  not  in  my 
own  ruling.  I  began  to  think  that  the  patroon  had 
an  enemy  besides  myself  in  the  bosom  of  his  house- 
hold. Perhaps,  after  all,  it  would  be  through  Louis 
that  I  should  win  out  in  the  end;  but  I  little  fore- 
saw the  truth,  or  the  trouble  that  was  to  come 
before  the  end,  when  the  clouds  should  clear  above 
the  band  of  fallen  troopers. 

"Yonder  is  the  city  wall,"  said  Pierre.  "I  had 
best  not  go  into  town  by  your  side.  We  should  not 
be  seen  together,  so  I  will  just  take  my  leave." 

He  left  me  abruptly  and  turned  down  a  side  lane 
almost  before  I  knew  that  he  was  gone;  then  I  gal- 
loped ahead  to  overtake  Annetje  Dorn.  We  en- 
tered the  city,  riding  one  abreast  the  other.  We 
had  no  sooner  reached  the  open  space  before  the 
Stadt  Huys  than  a  new  adventure  presented  itself, 
an  adventure  which  tested  my  companion's  nerve 
to  the  utmost. 


220   PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"There  is  the  Earl  of  Bellamont,"  she  said.  "He 
will  take  me  for  my  mistress  and  speak  to  me. 
Wliat  shall  I  do?" 

"You  must  stick  it  out,"  I  answered.  "Look 
sharp  now.    This  must  be  gone  through  with." 

When  we  first  spied  the  Earl  we  were  in  the 
midst  of  a  large  open  place  near  the  fort.  Even  at 
that  distance  I  could  mark  the  easy,  erect  bearing 
that  made  him  the  envy  of  all  the  horseback  riders 
in  the  province.  He  was  bowing  right  and  left  to 
the  many  persons  he  met  on  every  hand,  and  so  did 
not  see  us  until  we  were  quite  upon  him.  When 
he  did  see  us,  however,  he  bowed  low  as  if  he  had 
met  a  queen.  He  was  much  different  in  this  respect 
from  his  wife.  The  Earl,  in  fact,  was  free  with  the 
ladies  and  cordial  to  everyone,  but  it  was  a  well- 
known  piece  of  gossip  that  he  would  not  let  his 
wife  stir  from  the  fort  without  a  watch.  She  had 
been  wild  in  her  youth,  and  had  married  him  when 
she  was  but  a  child.  Now  he  was  jealous  as  a 
woman  about  her,  but  with  himself  it  was  a  differ- 
ent matter  altogether. 

"A  welcome  greeting,  Mistress  Van  Volken- 
berg."  He  knew  her  well  enough  by  the  trappings 
of  her  horse,  and  by  the  red  band  on  my  arm.  "I 
must  tell  my  Lady  Bellamont  that  you  ride  now 
with  a  mask.  It  has  always  been  her  wish,  you 
know,  that  the  maidens  of  the  province  should  not 
be  so  free  with  their  pretty  faces." 

"Your   Excellency   speaks   sweet   flattery,"   an- 


ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  221 

swered  Annetje.  The  bridle  trembled  in  her  hand, 
but  her  voice  rang  like  metal. 

"And  your  father — is  the  patroon  well?" 

His  face  clouded  a  bit,  I  thought,  as  he  said  this; 
but  there  were  gentlemen  in  Yorke  in  those  days 
that  have  passed  away,  and  the  Earl  of  Bellamont 
never  failed  in  courtesy  to  a  woman. 

"My  father  is  well,  your  Excellency.  This  is  a 
new  retainer  of  his — Monsieur  St.  Vincent." 

"Ah,  Monsieur  St.  Vincent,  you  are  welcome  to 
the  province.  It  is  always  our  wish  to  obtain  such 
men  as  you.  Broad  shoulders  and  a  true  heart, 
they  are  the  strength  of  Yorke."  He  turned  to 
Annetje.  "We  must  see  your  pretty  face  unmasked 
at  the  Assembly  Ball — and  Monsieur  St.  Vincent 
also,"  bowing  to  me. 

He  would  have  invited  the  devil  himself  if  he  had 
come  in  company  with  a  lady;  but  had  he  known 
what  a  revelation  I  should  bring  to  that  public  ball 
the  color  would  have  left  his  cheeks.  But  that  is 
to  come.  A  few  more  commonplace  remarks  passed 
between  us  and  then  we  parted. 

"I  can  understand  it  now,"  said  Annetje  as  we 
rode  towards  home.  "I  often  wonder  how  he  keeps 
it  all  away  from  our  sweet  mistress;  but  if  all  the 
men  are  like  that — no  wonder.  Who  would  have 
thought  that  he  was  talking  to  the  daughter  of  his 
worst  enemy?  Yet  she — God  bless  her  innocent 
heart — she  does  not  even  know  that  her  father  is  in 
disgrace  with  the  privy-council." 


222        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"But  you  seem  to." 

"Ay,  Pierre,"  she  answered,  indicating  the  source 
of  her  information. 

She  turned  towards  me,  taking  off  her  mask  as 
she  did  so.  We  were  out  in  the  country  again,  fol- 
lowing a  by-path  north  of  the  city  where  there 
was  no  longer  any  danger  of  meeting  folk  to  recog- 
nize us.  I  had  been  used  to  see  in  her  a  merry  face 
sparkling  with  humor.  Now,  when  she  unmasked, 
her  brows  were  puckered  up,  and  her  childish  face 
wore  a  sober,  puzzled  look. 

"Ay,  Pierre.  I  love  him  if  I  do  tease  him.  What 
is  more,  I  trust  him,  too.  He  knows  me  well. 
Your  secret  is  safe  with  me,  Monsieur  Le  Bourse. 
You  see  that  I  know  all  about  you.  I  brought  you 
out  this  afternoon  because  I  knew  that  we  should 
meet  Pierre.  I  dare  say  you  had  something  for  his 
ear  if  he  had  none  for  yours.  I  do  not  know  why 
you  are  here.  I  do  not  even  ask.  Pierre  is  your 
safety  and  I  am  satisfied.  But  beware;  I  am  a 
watchdog  to  my  mistress.  If  you  do  anything 
against  her  I'll  cut  your  throat." 

"Annetje,"  I  cried.  "You  can  trust  me  there.  I 
shall  protect  her  with  my  life  for  the  love  she  bore 
my  sister.  Tell  me  one  thing.  How  is  it  that  she 
can  stand  what  is  going  on  at  Hanging  Rock?" 

"She  does  not  know  it." 

"How  can  she  help  knowing  it?" 

"Because  we  all  love  her.  Even  the  patroon 
would  lay  down  his  life  for  her.     Do  you  suppose 


ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  223 

he  is  afraid  to  have  her  know  the  truth?  It  is  be- 
cause he  loves  her  and  would  save  her  pain." 

"I  have  seen  him  try  to  strike  her  with  a  glass." 

"It  was  in  anger.  He  has  a  strange  infirmity 
that  comes  upon  him  suddenly.  He  does  not  know 
what  he  is  doing  when  it  has  got  hold  of  him.  She 
forgives  all  that,  her  heart  is  so  big." 

"But  last  night — the  death  of  Ronald  Guy?" 

"Hush,  not  a  word  of  that  before  her.  She  knows 
nothing  of  all  that." 

"But  she  does  know  it.  She  was  on  the  terrace. 
I  saw  her  with  my  own  eyes." 

"Yet  she  does  not  know  it.  We  are  used  to  the 
Red  Band  drilling  at  night.  I  knew  what  was  com- 
ing yesterday,  and  at  night  I  drew  her  curtains  close 
so  she  could  not  see  what  was  going  on.  When 
the  guns  went  off  she  sprang  out  of  bed.  She  heard 
her  father's  cry.  I  could  not  stop  her  before  she 
threw  on  a  cloak  and  ran  down  stairs  in  her  bare 
feet.  She  met  her  father  in  the  doorway  taken  with 
one  of  his  strange  fits.  She  had  no  eyes  for  any- 
thing but  him.  She  did  not  see  poor  Ronald  lying 
in  a  heap,  nor  Meg." 

"She  cannot  be  kept  in  ignorance  forever.  How 
long  has  this  thing  been  going  on?" 

"Not  long.  The  Red  Band  is  a  new  thing.  It 
vAW  bring  ruin  upon  the  house.  My  poor  mistress, 
when  she  learns  the  truth!  The  truth  will  break 
her  heart,  she  is  so  strong  for  right."     The  tears 


224        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

were  streaming  out  of  the  poor  girl's  eyes.  "Prom- 
ise me  you  will  do  nothing  to  harm  my  mistress." 

"I  swear  before  God  I  shall  protect  her." 

Then  we  fell  to  musing  and  rode  for  half  an  hour 
before  Annetje  asked  me  to  tie  her  mask  again. 

"It  is  time  we  were  going  home,"  she  said. 
"There  is  some  distance  yet,  for  I  have  led  you 
round  about  and  we  are  scarcely  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
from  the  city  wall." 

A  hundred  yards  brought  us  to  the  Post  Road, 
along  which  we  turned  to  the  left,  galloping  rapidly 
northward  towards  the  Hanging  Rock.  On  our 
right,  not  more  than  a  mile  from  the  town  was,  and 
is  for  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary,  an  old  tumble- 
down tannery.  We  were  approaching  this  ram- 
shackle building  when  five  men  suddenly  dashed 
out  on  us.  They  were  all  rough  looking  fellows, 
and  each  one  of  them  wore  a  black  mask  over  his 
face.  In  spite  of  this  disguise,  I  recognized  the 
hindmost  man.  The  jumbled  figure  like  a  mass  of 
jelly  in  the  saddle — so  unlike  the  stiffness  with 
which  he  sometimes  rode — proclaimed  him  to  be 
Louis  Van  Ranim.  Because  of  his  presence  I  could 
hardly  believe  this  sortie  to  be  an  attack  upon  me 
till  I  heard  the  cry  of  the  foremost  rider  caught  up 
and  repeated  by  the  others. 

"Down  with  him.  Down  with  the  Red  Band. 
Fire." 

Four  of  their  muskets  rang  out  at  once.  I  heard 
Annetje  scream,  and  expected  to  fall  dead,  but  I 


'ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  225 

was  not  even  hurt.  The  fifth  man  had  got  so  close 
to  me  that  he  shot  off  his  gun  at  my  very  breast. 
Then  Louis  raised  the  butt  end  of  his  musket  and 
struck  me  on  the  head.  All  this  happened  so  sud- 
denly that  I  had  not  had  time  even  to  draw  my 
sword.  When  Louis's  gun  fell,  I  reeled.  I  just 
remember  Annetje's  shriek,  and  the  hoofbeats  of 
her  horse  like  a  great  echoing  drum.  Next  I  felt 
myself  sliding  from  the  saddle,  and  then  all  is  a 
blank  to  this  day. 

My  grandfather  used  to  say,  "Telling  dreams  is 
but  another  name  for  lying;"  so  I  shall  not  speak 
of  the  glorious  visions  of  war  and  battle  that 
thronged  through  my  brain  before  I  came  to  myself 
again.  But  regain  consciousness  I  did,  and  in  the 
following  manner. 

I  remembered  the  drumbeats  of  Annetje's  horse 
as  I  reeled  from  the  saddle,  and  when  I  came  to 
myself  again  the  first  sound  that  fell  on  my  ear  was 
the  sound  of  a  hammer.  I  was  lying  on  my  back 
on  the  floor  of  a  dimly  lit  outhouse.  Ten  feet  away 
from  me  two  men  were  making  a  box. 

Luckily  I  had  come  to  my  senses  quietly  and  had 
made  no  noise  to  attract  their  attention.  For  all 
the  two  workmen  knew  I  might  be  still  asleep — or 
dead,  as  they  doubtless  supposed.  I  made  haste 
to  stretch  myself  in  that  half  sort  of  way  which  is 
as  good  as  none,  for  I  did  not  really  move  a  muscle; 


226    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

I  only  strained  a  little  here  and  there  to  make  sure 
1  was  still  alive. 

The  effect  of  the  blow  that  had  rendered  me  un- 
conscious had  passed  away.  Save  for  the  ringing 
in  my  ears  and  the  dull  heavy  pain  in  the  crown 
of  my  head,  I  was  all  right  and  my  wit  was  as  clear 
as  ever.  So  soon  as  I  ascertained  this  fact,  and  had 
recollected  the  fight  on  the  road,  I  set  myself  to 
imravel  the  present  situation. 

"^^  must  have  been  about  sundown,  and  I  soon 
discovered  that  the  place  where  I  lay  was  the  old 
disused  tannery.  One  of  the  two  workmen  I  did 
not  know;  the  other  was  Louis  Van  Ramm.  Now 
for  the  first  time  I  had  a  chance  to  think  what  his 
presence  here  meant.  Evidently  this  attack  had 
been  instigated  by  the  patroon — how  otherwise 
could  the  dwarf  be  mixed  up  in  it?  But  what  part 
was  he  really  playing?  Were  all  his  protestations 
of  the  morning  false,  or  had  he  joined  them  only 
to  hinder  the  execution  of  their  plans?  Then  I 
remembered  that  it  was  his  blow  that  had  struck  me 
down.  I  cursed  him  in  my  heart  for  it;  but  I  was 
soon  to  learn  that  I  was  unjust  in  this  suspicion. 

However,  despite  my  efforts  to  be  still,  I  soon 
made  a  slight  noise. 

"My  God!"  cried  the  workman.  "Was  that 
him?" 

"Couldn't  be,"  replied  Louis.  "But  I'll  look 
again  and  make  sure." 

He  dropped  his  hammer  and  came  mincing  to 


ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  227 

my  side.  As  he  bent  over  me  I  opened  my  eyes 
and  looked  square  into  his  face.  He  hissed  between 
his  teeth  for  silence  and  laid  his  clumsy  hand  over 
my  mouth  for  an  instant.  Then  he  got  up  and 
rejoined  his  companion. 

"He's  as  dead  as  a  rock,  and  getting  stiff.  No 
fear  of  him,  Barker." 

"If  he's  dead,"  returned  Barker,  "devil  a  fear 
have  I.  I'll  risk  his  ghost."  Then  he  added 
after  a  pause:  "I  hope  we  shall  get  out  of  here 
before  night." 

"Little  chance  of  that,"  said  Louis.  "This  is  not 
a  job  the  patroon  will  have  finished  in  daylight." 

"Is  he  coming  himself  to  see  us  bury  him?" 

"Yes.  Get  to  work.  This  isn't  much  of  a  cofifin; 
but,  such  as  it  is,  it  must  be  finished  against  his 
coming  back." 

So  they  were  making  my  cofifin  and  were  going 
to  bury  me.  "If  they  could,"  I  thought.  But  per- 
haps they  had  reckoned  without  me.  If  I  made  a 
sudden  spring  I  could  easily  master  Barker,  or  both 
of  them  if  Louis  proved  my  enemy.  But  Louis 
knew  not  only  that  I  was  alive,  but  also  that  I  was 
conscious.  Had  he  been  playing  me  false  he  would 
not  have  deceived  his  partner.  So  I  observed  his 
warning  to  be  silent,  and  lay  perfectly  still  for  some 
time. 

Soon  they  finished  their  job,  and  Barker  sug- 
gested that  they  box  me  up.  Louis  assented,  and 
they  came  over  to  my  side.    I  squinted  between  my 


228    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

lids  and  awaited  some  sign  from  the  dwarf.  I  felt 
sure  that  he  had  planned  something  and  that  It 
was  my  cue  to  wait.    Barker  took  hold  of  my  hand. 

"Why,  he's  warm,  Van  Ramm." 

"Warm,"  said  Louis.    "Nonsense;  feel  his  heart." 

The  fellow  bent  over  me.  At  the  very  instant, 
Louis  gave  him  a  prodigious  shove  from  behind 
that  tumbled  him  down  across  my  chest. 

"Grip  him,  Vincent,"  cried  the  dwarf.  "Grip 
him  tight." 

I  threw  up  my  arms  and  locked  them  round  the 
fellow's  back.  Then  I  felt  a  sharp  twinge  of  pain, 
for  Louis  had  driven  his  dagger  clean  through  my 
enemy's  back  and  half  an  inch  into  my  own  flesh. 
Barker  gave  a  convulsive  sob  and  was  dead  almost 
before  I  knew  that  he  had  been  struck. 

"Get  up,  get  up,"  cried  the  dwarf,  who  was  tug- 
ging at  the  body.  "Give  him  a  push;  i  cannot  lift 
the  wretch.    There — now  get  up." 

With  that  I  got  up.  Louis  grasped  my  hand  and 
spoke  of  my  narrow  escape. 

"But  we  must  be  quick,"  he  went  on,  "Take  ofT 
that  boot  while  I  do  the  other.  Good.  Now  for  his 
.coat  and  waistcoat." 

In  five  minutes  we  had  the  dead  man  stripped  of 
his  outer  clothes.  I  hardly  understood  what  we 
were  doing  till  Louis  told  me  to  take  off  my  own 
clothes  and  dress  myself  in  the  others.  This  I  did 
in  a  moment,  but  it  was  slower  work  putting  my 
garments  on  the  body  of  the  dead  man.     We  sue- 


ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  229 

ceeded,  however,  and  soon  Barker  lay  in  the  coffin 
and  the  Hd  was  nailed  down.    I  sat  safe  and  sound. 

"Now  put  on  his  mask,"  said  Louis,  "and  we  can 
talk  till  the  hell-cat  comes.  What,  you  tremble ! 
On  my  life,  your  hands  are  cold.    Take  this." 

He  put  a  flask  of  whisky  to  my  mouth  and  I 
gulped  down  a  stifling  draught.  It  was  well  I  did 
so,  for  my  spirit  was  weak  and  we  were  not  done 
with  this  adventure  by  more  than  half.  It  is  a  hard 
thing  to  strike  a  man  down  like  that,  even  to  save 
one's  life.  I  could  not  reconcile  myself  to  the  shame 
of  having  struck  him  from  the  back  and  while  he 
was  defenceless.  But  Louis  had  saved  my  life  and 
I  did  not  upbraid  him  with  the  way  he  had  chosen 
to  do  it. 

"Louis,"  I  said — we  were  sitting  side  by  side  on 
the  coffin.  "What  does  all  this  mean?  Wliy  did 
you  call  your  master  a  hell-cat?" 

"He  gave  orders  for  us  to  lie  in  wait  and  kill  you. 
He  thought  you  were  Le  Bourse." 

"Thought,  or  thinks?" 

"Thought.    He  thinks  you  are  the  devil  now." 

"Wherefore  that  compliment?" 

"Five  muskets  discharged  at  short  range,  one  in 
your  very  face;  none  of  them  brought  you  down.  I 
had  to  club  you  with  the  butt  end  of  my  musket." 

"Strange  how  they  came  to  miss  me." 

"Not  strange  at  all.  I  unloaded  them.  Hush, 
don't  stop  to  thank  me  now.  They  are  coming.  I 
hope  he  will  not  want  to  look  into  the  box." 


230        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

A  moment  later  the  patroon  and  one  of  his  men 
entered, 

"Is  your  work  done,  Louis?" 

"Yes,  sir;  your  orders  are  always  obeyed,  though 
Barker  and  I  had  to  sweat  for  it." 

"Good.  You  shall  have  your  reward."  (This  to 
me.)  "Now  help  us  carry  this  out.  We  have  got 
the  grave  all  ready." 

The  four  of  us  took  up  the  box  and  marched 
slowly  out  with  it.  We  crossed  a  courtyard  into 
another  shed.  It  was  dusk  outside,  but  quite  dark 
where  we  were  going.  I  could  see  piles  of  lumber, 
boxes  and  barrels  on  either  side;  and,  at  the  far  end, 
a  couple  of  disused  vats.  Everything  was  gloomy 
and  still  and  solemn.  Beyond  the  vats  a  light  was 
burning,  and  here  we  found  the  fifth  man  sitting 
beside  my — nay,  Barker's  grave.  The  patroon 
urged  speed,  and  we  were  not  long  in  burying  the 
cofiftn.  Then  we  covered  it  with  boards  and  debris 
so  as  to  obliterate  all  traces  of  our  presence  and 
the  grave.  When  we  paused  at  the  end  to  survey 
our  work,  I  heard  Louis  mutter  to  the  patroon : 

"  'Tis  not  the  first  time  we  have  done  a  piece  of 
work  like  this." 

There  came  into  Van  Volkenberg's  face  that 
dogged  look  of  hate  that  I  had  seen  in  the  council 
chamber  the  day  I  had  humbled  him  in  the  pres- 
ence of  his  peers.  Had  I  known  nothing  about  him 
but  that  look,  I  should  have  known  that  a  day  of 
reckoning  was  at  hand  for  the  henchman.     Van 


'ANOTHER  SECRET  BURIAL  231 

Volkenberg's  only  reply,  however,  was :  "Remem- 
ber Ronald  Guy." 

We  were  now  ready  to  go  out.  As  soon  as  we 
were  on  our  journey  homeward,  the  patroon 
touched  me  on  the  arm  and  motioned  me  silently 
to  drop  back  with  him. 

"You  have  done  well,  Barker.  You  have  obeyed 
orders  without  asking  questions.  Do  you  feel  no 
curiosity  to  know  why  he  died?" 

"It  is  not  my  place  to  observe  that  men  are  much 
like  women  in  the  matter  of  trifles." 

"Trifles  1  Do  you  call  the  death  of  a  living  man 
a  trifle!  Bah;  but  'tis  a  shrewd  hint,  my  honest 
man.  I  shall  reward  you  with  my  confidence.  I 
shall  not  honor  the  others  so.  Even  Louis  does 
not  know  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you.  That  man 
was  Bellamont's  spy." 

"Spy,"  I  cried. 

"Yes,  my  trusty  Barker.  A  spy  sent  by  the 
enemy  of  the  Red  Band." 

"So  perish  all  her  enemies." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  asked  the  patroon  in  a  tone 
of  condescension,  as  if  he  really  wanted  my  corrob- 
oration. "If  you  really  believe  that,  heart  and  soul, 
I  have  some  work  for  you  that  will  raise  you  high 
as  an  officer  of  mine.  There  is  still  another  spy  in 
the  very  bosom  of  the  Red  Band." 

"Another!    Two  of  them !    Who  is  he?" 

"That  prancing  ape  ahead." 

"Louis  Van  Ramm?" 


232        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"Louis  Van  Ramm." 

"I  am  astonished.  We  all  thought  he  was  our 
master's  dearest  man." 

"So  he  has  been.  I  have  found  him  out  at  last. 
He  is  paid  by  the  Governor-Earl  to  betray  us,  and 
he  must  die  for  it.  If  you  will  kill  him  you  shall 
have  his  place.    Will  you  do  it?" 

"You  have  but  to  command.  Shall  I  ahead  and 
do  it  now?" 

"No,  no,"  he  said  quickly,  laying  his  hand  on 
my  arm.  "There  are  three  of  them;  besides,  this 
must  be  done  secretly.  To-morrow,  at  nine  o'clock 
exactly,  Louis  and  I  shall  set  out  for  the  Hanging 
Rock.  Be  there  to  meet  us.  When  we  are  done 
with  him  I  have  a  secret  to  introduce  you  to  in  the 
chamber  beneath  the  rock." 

"I  shall  be  there  in  waiting,  master." 

"Good.  Be  punctual.  Now  drop  back  and  do 
not  show  yourself  in  the  meantime.  I  shall  join 
those  ahead." 

With  that  he  quickened  his  step  and  was  soon 
swallowed  in  the  darkness,  while  I  stood  counting 
his  dwindling  footsteps. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
I  MEET  THE  PATROON  AGAIN 

It  is  pleasant  to  indulge  the  habit  of  speculation, 
and  to  this  day  I  never  weary  of  wondering  how  it 
is  that  a  person  can  perform  acts  in  a  moment  of 
excitement  that  he  could  do  at  no  other  time;  or 
why  it  is  that  one  often  collapses  with  fear  the  mo- 
ment all  cause  for  anxiety  is  gone. 

The  latter  was  my  case  when  the  patroon  left  me 
to  rejoin  his  companions.  Ever  since  my  arrival 
at  the  manor-house,  I  had  known  myself  in  great 
danger.  The  alertness  required,  the  readiness  to 
defend  my  life  at  a  moment's  notice  had  caused  an 
almost  continuous  strain  upon  my  nerves  that  was 
well  nigh  unendurable.  But,  in  spite  of  the  two 
bold  attempts  on  my  life,  I  had  borne  up  bravely 
and  had  not  flinched. 

The  moment  the  patroon  left  me,  however,  I  felt 
my  courage  slipping  after  him.  As  I  counted  his 
footsteps,  as  they  became  fainter  and  fainter  in  the 
distance,  I  began  to  fear  that  he  would  return.  In- 
stead of  joy  at  my  narrow  escape,  I  feared  lest  it 
should  not  prove  an  escape  at  all.  Suppose  Louis 
should  tell  him  who  I  was.  I  had  every  reason  in 
the  world  to  believe  in  the  dwarf's  honesty;  the 
very  fact  that  I  began  to  suspect  him  at  the  moment 
he  had  delivered  me  from  such  imminent  danger 

833 


234        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

shows  the  power  of  the  reaction  that  had  taken  hold 
of  me. 

My  one  idea  was  to  get  away.  But  at  the  first 
step  my  knees  doubled  under  me  and  I  stumbled  on 
the  ground,  weak  and  exhausted.  The  grass  was 
wet  with  dew  and  when  my  face  and  hands  touched 
it  I  felt  somewhat  refreshed.  I  rolled  over  on  my; 
back  and  lay  for  some  time  looking  up  at  the  stars. 
There  was  one  cold  star  just  overhead  which  I  kept 
watching  as  it  crept  across  a  narrow  gap  in  the 
foliage  above  me.  The  stars  move  so  slowly,  and 
I  thought  afterwards  what  a  long  time  I  must  have 
lain  there  noting  nothing  but  that  slow-paced  point 
of  light. 

After  a  while  I  began  to  feel  ashamed  of  my 
feebleness  of  mind  and  body.  I  recalled  how  I  had 
once  berated  a  man  for  cowardice  who  was  in  much 
the  same  plight  on  that  flight  from  Paris  years  be- 
fore when  my  sister  was  a  child  and  in  my  care.  I 
began  to  apply  the  same  words  to  myself  that  I  had 
applied  to  him  then,  and  presently  my  spirit  was 
returning  to  me.  With  the  change  came,  fiercer 
than  ever,  my  hatred  for  my  enemy.  This  slaying 
a  man  in  the  dark  and  by  traps  was  more  than  I 
could  stand.  What  infuriated  me  most  was  the 
presence  of  Annetje  in  the  fray.  Of  course  the 
patroon  thought  that  it  was  his  daughter  who  had 
ridden  out  with  me,  yet  he  led  the  attack  in  spite  of 
her  presence.  Though  he  knew  she  would  sustain 
no  bodily  harm,  he  should  have  remembered  the 


/  MEET  THE  PAT  ROOM  'AGAIN       235 

terrible  shock  it  must  have  given  her.  This  brutality 
to  her  was  the  match  that  kindled  me  into  counte- 
nance again.  With  the  thought  of  it  I  was  on  my 
feet,  with  my  hand  upon  my  sword  hilt,  ready  to 
keep  my  promise  to  Annetje  Dorn. 

But  as  yet  I  had  no  plan.  I  set  out,  however,  to- 
wards the  tannery,  resolved  to  get  back  my  own 
clothes.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  way,  but 
I  had  no  light  and  it  was  slow  work  unloading  the 
debris  we  had  piled  upon  the  grave.  It  was  done 
at  last,  however,  and  when  I  reached  the  coffin  I 
pried  off  the  cover  with  the  blade  of  my  sword. 

It  made  me  shudder  to  put  on  the  clothes  that  the 
dead  man  had  worn  for  so  many  hours,  but  I  forced 
myself  to  do  it  and  felt  the  better  when  it  was  done. 
It  was  about  dawn  by  this  time,  and  after  I  had 
hidden  Barker's  clothes — for  I  might  need  them  as 
a  disguise — I  occupied  an  hour,  restoring  the  cor- 
ner to  its  former  appearance  of  undisturbed  dis- 
order. 

As  it  was  now  broad  daylight  I  set  out  for  the 
manor-house,  minded  to  stay  about  till  shortly 
before  nine  o'clock,  for  at  that  time  I  knew  the 
patroon  intended  to  set  out  with  Louis  for  the 
Hanging  Rock,  I  sat  down  to  wait,  but  soon  an 
incident  occurred  that  spoiled  all  the  plans  I  had 
been  forming  in  the  last  hour, 

I  had  taken  a  seat  at  the  foot  erf  a  tree  in  the  park, 
merely  to  wait  till  later.     Soon  I  heard  footsteps. 


236   PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

and  then  saw  the  young  mistress  coming  with  a 
basket  in  her  hand.    I  rose  to  my  feet. 

"Mistress  Van  Volkenberg,"  I  said. 

She  gave  a  scream  and  dropped  her  basket*  I 
was  by  her  side  instantly. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  I  asked,  excitedly,  never 
thinking  that  it  was  the  sight  of  me  which  had 
caused  her  to  cry  out  and  drop  her  basket. 

"Matter!  We  thought  you  were  dead.  The 
utmost  search,  my  father  says,  revealed  no  trace  of 
the  ruffians  who  attacked  you.  How  did  you  es- 
cape?" 

For  a  moment  I  was  in  doubt  as  to  whether  to 
tell  her  the  truth  or  not.  Then  we  sat  down  on  the 
grass  and  I  related  the  whole  adventure  to  her  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end,  keeping  back  only  the 
names  of  the  persons  who  had  been  involved.  Of 
the  fact  that  her  father  had  been  privy  to  it,  I  gave 
not  the  least  hint. 

How  truly  Shakespeare  knew  the  innermost 
heart  of  woman  when  he  wrote :  "She  thank'd  me. 
And  bade  me,  if  I  had  a  friend  that  loved  her,  I 
should  but  teach  him  how  to  tell  my  story,  And 
that  would  woo  her."  As  I  told  my  tale  her  eyes 
opened  wider  and  wider.  I  seemed  to  stand  in  her 
simple  imagination  like  one  of  the  heroes  of  old 
time.  She  did  not  realize  that  I  had  done  nothing 
to  help  myself,  that  my  escape  had  all  been  ar- 
ranged for  me.  Her  cheeks  glowed  with  interest 
and  sympathy.     I  think  it  must  have  been  at  that 


/  MEET  THE  PATROON  'AGAIN       237 

moment  that  the  feeling  for  me  was  born  which  led 
her  to  so  many  kind  acts  in  the  next  few  days. 

"Oh,"  she  cried  with  a  little  gasp  of  breath.  "I 
am  so  glad.  You  are  so  brave.  Let  me  tell  my 
father  all  al)OUt  it." 

"Mistress  Van  Volkenberg,"  I  replied,  "will  you 
grant  me  a  favor?" 

"Anything,  Monsieur  St.  Vincent." 

"It  is  this.  Do  not  tell  your  father.  Do  not  tell 
anyone.  Your  father  is  often  ill,  and  if  I  told  him 
all  it  might  excite  him.    Will  you  leave  this  to  me?" 

"Yes,  if  you  wish  it." 

"I  do.  You  are  very  kind.  Where  were  you 
going  when  I  alarmed  you  so?" 

"I  was  going  to  the  woods  with  a  basket  of 
flowers.    Will  you  carry  them  for  me?" 

We  picked  up  the  basket  she  had  dropped  and 
rearranged  the  flowers  that  had  fallen  upon  the 
ground.  Then  we  set  out,  taking  a  footpath 
through  the  woods,  which  brought  us  quickly  to  a 
little  summer  house  perched  high  upon  a  jutting 
cliff. 

"This  is  the  Hanging  Rock,  Monsieur  St.  Vin- 
cent. It  is  what  gives  the  name  to  our  estate.  It 
was  called  so  even  before  my  father  got  possession 
of  the  rock  itself.  This  is  one  of  the  last  grants  we 
received  from  Governor  Fletcher.  Governor  Bel- 
lamont  shows  small  favor  to  us." 

Her  sweet  voice  and  innocent  manner  took  my 
breath  away.    The  relations  between  her  father  and 


238        PAT  ROOM  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

the  government  were  what  I  should  hardly  expect 
her  to  speak  to  me  about;  yet  she  did  speak  of  them 
without  the  least  hesitation  or  embarrassment. 
Could  it  be  that  she  was  innocent  of  all  knowledge 
of  what  went  on  within  the  boundary  of  her  father's 
manor?  It  was  an  impossible  thought  at  first,  yet 
I  could  not  associate  a  knowledge  of  such  things 
with  the  expression  of  her  face  at  that  moment. 
Her  features  were  lit  up  with  a  gentle  sadness,  such 
as  one  sees  in  the  pictures  of  the  saints.  I  could 
believe  no  wrong  of  her,  yet  how  could  I  explain 
it?  Did  she  not  know  that  her  sire  had  been  ex- 
pelled in  disgrace  from  the  governor's  council? 
Was  her  only  knowledge  of  her  father's  faults  drawn 
from  his  unkindness  to  herself?  She  cut  my  medita- 
tions short  by  an  abrupt  question: 

"Will  you  carry  my  basket  for  me?  I  cut  all  the 
flowers  in  my  garden  yesterday  and  brought  them 
here." 

She  pointed  to  a  large  basket  and  asked  me  again 
to  take  it  up  and  follow  her.  I  soon  knew  where  we 
were  going.  The  vaguely  familiar  scene  grew  more 
and  more  distinct  as  I  trudged  silently  at  her  back. 
I  knew  instinctively  that  we  were  passing  through 
the  same  wood  where  I  had  wandered  in  my  trance, 
•where  I  had  met  her  when  she  gave  me  the  minia- 
ture of  my  dead  sister.  We  were  going  to  my 
sister's  grave.  Yes,  I  knew  the  place  instantly.  I 
saw  her  lift  the  piece  of  loose  sod  which  covered  the 
stone  marked  with  Ruth's  name. 


/  MEET  THE  PATROON  AGAIN       239 

Mistress  Miriam  sat  on  the  grass  by  the  side  of 
the  grave,  binding  the  flowers  into  wreaths  and 
bunches  which  she  laid  about.  When  she  placed  the 
last  she  knelt  and  clasped  her  hands  in  prayer.  Her 
lips  murmured  and  the  tears  followed  one  another 
down  her  cheeks  and  fell  among  the  flowers.  i 

I  turned  away,  a  great  pain  in  my  heart.  Here 
was  I  by  my  sister's  grave,  yet  I  could  not  throw 
myself  upon  it  and  weep  out  my  sorrow.  Her  only 
mourner  was  a  Roman  Catholic.  O  God,  it  is  not 
for  me  to  question  the  mystery  of  Thy  ways !  Thy 
will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven. 

On  our  way  home  I  found  it  necessary  to  exert 
my  full  power  of  self-control  lest  I  betray  my  secret. 

"You  are  affected,"  she  said.  "It  shows  that  you 
have  a  warm  heart." 

"Will  you  tell  me  more  about  her?"  I  asked. 

Mistress  Van  Volkenberg  related  how  Ruth  had 
come  to  New  York,  and  how  she  had  suffered  long- 
ing and  sorrowful  suspense  for  the  brother  who  did 
not  come  to  her.  Then  she  took  service.  The 
young  mistress  of  the  manor-house  fell  in  love  with 
Ruth,  as  everyone  did  who  knew  her.  Even  the 
hard  patroon  at  times  seemed  to  feel  her  sweetness. 

"But  he  should  be  forgiven.  My  father  has 
strange  seizures.  He  is  good  to  me  when  his  in- 
firmity is  not  upon  him."  She  stopped  suddenly. 
"I  ought  not  to  be  talking  like  this  to  you  who  are 
a  strano:er." 


240    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

I  did  not  feel  that  we  were  strangers,  but  I  could 
not  tell  her  so.  On  the  way  back  to  the  manor- 
house  a  chance  word  recalled  to  me  her  innocence 
of  her  father's  crimes.  I  followed  this  clew  and 
directed  the  conversation  towards  a  revelation  of 
herself. 

Mistress  Van  Volkenberg  was  a  woman  of  high 
spirit.  Had  I  not  seen  her  stand  out  against  her 
angry  parent  in  defense  of  Ruth?  Yet  she  was 
igentle  withal.  In  our  conversation,  she  showed  no 
bitterness  against  her  father,  who  had  so  little  claim 
to  the  honor  which  she  bore  him.  He  must  have 
been  dull  indeed  not  to  see  his  daughter's  worth; 
yet  I  wondered  how  she  could  be  so  blind  to  his 
defects.  She  soon  told  me  more  of  his  dealings 
[with  her. 

''Father  does  not  like  to  have  me  go  to  the  city," 
she  said.  "I  wish  he  did  not  care,  for  I  love  to  go. 
[Yesterday  morning  was  the  first  time  for  so  long, 
and  he  bade  me  not  to  tarry.  The  merry  scenes  on 
market  day  before  the  fort,  and  the  ships  coming 
and  going  with  all  the  strange  new  faces  of  their 
crews — one  loves  to  watch  such  things.  Ah,  you 
should  have  been  here  in  the  old  days  when  the 
pirates  came  freely  into  the  port.  I  have- seen  old 
Blackbeard  and  the  Painted  Dwarf  strutting  along 
the  Battery  in  silk  and  cloth  of  gold  like  any  king. 
But  the  Earl  has  stopped  all  that." 

Her  face  had  lighted  up  with  innocent  enthusi- 
asm as  she  recalled  the  sights  of  the  gorgeously 


/  MEET  THE  PATROON  AGAIN       241 

appareled  buccaneers;  but  the  lightness  died  away 
with  her  last  words,  and  she  ended  with  a  sigh. 

We  had  nearly  reached  the  manor  when  Mistress 
Van  Volkenberg  darted  from  my  side.  Almost  in 
a  moment  she  was  some  distance  away,  and  kneel- 
ing in  the  grass. 

'Toor  little  thing,"  I  heard  her  croon  gently. 

When  I  came  to  her  she  was  stroking  an  unfortu- 
nate bird  that  had  broken  its  wing  and  lay  helpless 
on  the  ground.  The  kind-hearted  girl  nursed  it 
tenderly  till  its  little  heart  ceased  to  beat  with  fear, 
and  it  snuggled  safely  in  her  hand.  As  she  carried 
it  into  the  house,  I  could  not  help  but  think  how 
little  fit  such  a  place  was  for  the  scenes  I  had  wit- 
nessed in  the  last  hour.  The  house  where  Ronald 
Guy  had  died,  where  they  had  stolen  upon  me  in 
the  dead  of  night  to  take  my  life,  the  house  which 
sheltered  the  man  who  was  responsible  for  my  ad- 
venture at  the  tannery  seemed  no  place  for  an  inno- 
cent girl  like  Miriam,  whose  tender  heart  was  all 
alive  with  sympathy  at  the  sufferings  of  the  poor 
bird  she  had  found  in  the  grass. 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  said,  stroking  it  and  talking 
gently  as  we  walked  along.  'T  shall  take  it  home 
and  nurse  it  till  it  can  fly  away.  I  cannot  fly  away 
either,  so  we  shall  play  together." 

By  this  time  we  had  nearly  reached  the  house. 
For  some  moments  I  had  been  afraid  lest  this  trip 
should  occupy  so  much  time  that  I  should  arrive 
at  the  manor-house  after  nine  o'clock,  the  hour  at 


242        PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

which  the  patroon  and  Louis  were  to  set  out  for 
the  rock.  As  we  neared  the  house,  I  espied  a  man 
who  was  leading  their  two  saddle  horses. 

"Your  father  is  about  to  ride,"  I  said. 

"Yes,"  answered  Miriam.  "He  and  Louis  are 
going  to  the  Hanging  Rock.  At  least  they  in- 
tended to  last  night;  I  set  out  too  early  this  morn- 
ing to  see  anyone  before  I  left." 

"Remember  what  you  promised  me,"  I  said. 
"My  adventure  is  to  be  secret.  Now,  if  you  will 
let  me,  I  shall  go  ahead  and  meet  your  father  before 
he  leaves  the  house. 

A  few  minutes  later  when  I  stood  by  the  door  of 
the  patroon's  private  room,  I  heard  the  voices  of 
him  and  his  curious  henchman. 

"That  Barker  is  a  good  fellow,"  Van  Volkenberg 
was  saying.  "I  have  a  notion  to  promote  him  to 
some  trust." 

"He  may  be  worth  it,"  answered  Louis.  "But  no 
one  has  seen  him  since  last  night.  Perhaps  he  has 
run  away  and  will  not  return." 

"One  thing  is  sure,"  replied  his  master.  "St. 
iVincent  will  not  return." 

Instantly  I  drew  aside  the  curtain  and  stood  in 
the  doorway. 

"Patroon  Van  Volkenberg." 

He  started  violently  at  the  sound  of  my  voice, 
and  turned  towards  me.  Then  his  hands  flew  up 
before  his  eyes  and  he  uttered  a  scream. 

"My  God,  my  God,  it  is  his  ghost.    Go  back,  go 


/  MEET  THE  PAT  ROOM  AGAIN       243 

back!  Louis,  try  if  it  be  real.  Get  your  sword. 
Give  me  mine.  Stop  it.  Hold,  hold;  stop  it.  For 
God's  sake,  Louis,  get  between." 

I  had  come  two  steps  forward,  and  my  approach 
seemed  to  drive  him  crazy.  He  backed  off,  holding 
one  hand  over  his  eyes,  and  waving  his  sword  with 
the  other. 

"Can  you  speak?  Why  are  you  so  silent?  Who 
are  you?    What  is  your  name?" 

''Henrie  St.  Vincent." 

"You  are  dead.  Have  you  come  to  call  me 
hence?  Begone.  I  am  not  ready  yet.  I  have  ac- 
counts still  to  settle.  Away,  Sir  Evelin.  Help  me, 
help;  call  my  daughter,  call  Miriam." 

He  caught  himself  up  at  the  last  word  and 
stopped.  He  was  gasping  for  breath,  clutching  his 
hands  tight  together  in  the  vain  attempt  to  force 
upon  himself  the  mastery  of  his  passion.  Suddenly 
he  called  out  again. 

"Bring  my  daughter;  fetch  Miriam  or  I  shall  die." 

While  Louis  went  in  search  of  her  I  remained  at 
his  side.  He  was  moaning  pitifully  and  calling 
upon  his  daughter.  Now  and  then  he  uttered  dis- 
jointed sentences.  "I  must  not  let  her  know — the 
Marmadukes — do  not  look  at  me  with  those  fearful 
eyes — I  did  not  kill  you — the  pretty  Ruth — she 
knew  my  secret." 

And  so  he  raved.  Remorse — ah,  I  too  know  its 
bitter  taste — remorse  was  conquering  where  no 
other  foe  could    conquer.      I    bowed  my  head  in 


244   PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

silence  and  departed;  this  was  no  place  for  me.  I 
left  him  with  his  daughter. 

With  this  sudden  visitation  all  my  plans  had  van- 
ished. I  had  sought  his  room  intending  to  defy  him 
to  the  utmost  and  to  make  him  fight,  and  thus  it 
had  all  ended.  Yet  I  have  not  told  you  half,  nor 
half  of  half.  I  cannot  till  this  day  forget  the  look  of 
fear  and  horror  on  his  face  when  he  saw  me,  whom 
he  thought  dead,  standing  before  him  like  a  spirit 
from  another  world.  No,  I  could  not  wish  even 
my  worst  enemy  the  anguish  he  felt  at  that  moment. 

Then,  as  Miriam  bent  over  him,  with  her  sweet 
pleading  face  I  realized  that  it  was  her  father  I  was 
hounding  to  his  death.  That  was  a  deeper  cut  than 
all.  I  knew  that  a  man  cannot  serve  two  masters. 
Could  I  serve  two  mistresses — or  three?  Could  I 
avenge  Ruth,  serve  Lady  Marmaduke,  and  protect 
Miriam  all  at  the  same  time?  How  had  I  kept  my 
promise  to  Annetje?  I  was  in  this  sullen  humor 
when  I  met  the  dwarf  in  the  hall. 

"What  did  you  come  back  for?"  he  cried  angrily. 
"I  saved  your  life  and  now  you  have  lost  me  mine. 
Do  you  think  life  is  sweet  only  to  you?  Does  my 
ill-shaped  figure,  think  you,  have  no  love  of  the 
green  earth?    Ungrateful!" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  chose  the  men  who  were  to  kill  you.  I  pre- 
pared the  weapons  that  were  to  shoot  you.  I 
watched  by  your  dead  body  all  the  time — at  least, 
so  I  swore.     Now  he  has  seen  you  alive  and  well. 


/  MEET  THE  PATROON  AGAIN       245, 

Do  you  suppose  the  little  dwarf  will  live  long  after 
that?  You  know  his  practices  on  yourself,  and  I 
am  not  half  your  size.    God's  curse  upon  you." 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "I  had  forgot — " 

"Forgot  what  I  did  for  you?" 

"No,  I  shall  never  forget  that.  You  have  a  right 
to  be  angry  with  me.  But  I  have  done  it;  it  cannot 
be  helped.  Is  there  no  way  I  can  undo  my  mis- 
take?" 

"None." 

"Think.    There  must  be." 

"There  is  none." 

"Does  the  patroon  remember  what  happens  dur- 
ing his  attacks?" 

"No,  it  is  all  a  blank." 

"Then  let  me  disappear.  You  can  easily  make 
him  believe  that  this  meeting  existed  only  in  his 
fevered  imagination.  I  shall  go  away  and  not  come 
back." 

All  this  while  Louis  had  been  sitting  a  limp  heap 
at  the  bottom  of  the  great  staircase.  Now  he  rose 
and  stood  on  the  second  step,  which  brought  his 
face  almost  on  a  level  with  mine. 

"Do  you  mean  that?"  he  asked,  putting  both  his 
hands  firmly  on  my  shoulders.  "Can  you  really  do 
that?" 

"I  can  and  I  will  do  it." 

"Then  why  did  you  come  here?" 

"Why?" 

"Ah,  no,  'twill  never  do.    You  could  never,  never 


24G    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

keep  yourself  away.  Besides,  I  need  you  here.  We 
have  more  in  common  than  you  think.  I  need  you 
here.  Sit  down  by  me  on  the  step.  We  must  form 
some  other  plan." 

And  another  plan  we  did  form,  and  that  most 
quickly.  I  proposed  it  and  Louis  confirmed  my 
suggestion  though,  for  the  moment,  I  was  myself 
the  more  doubtful  of  its  success.  When  the  patroon 
regained  consciousness,  Louis  was  to  relate  my 
story  just  as  I  had  told  it  to  Miriam.  The  patroon's 
own  recollection  of  the  events  was  to  be  attributed 
to  some  hallucination  during  his  attack. 

I  had  hardly  suggested  the  plan  before  an  objec- 
tion occurred  to  me.  Could  he  ever  be  made  to 
believe  all  this?  Louis,  however,  combated  my 
fears.  He  had  a  bit  of  information  that  he  had  not 
yet  communicated  to  me.  He  had  chosen  the  men 
who  were  to  take  part  in  the  attack.  They  had  all 
come  to  the  meeting  place  masked,  and  the  patroon 
had  not  stopped  to  ask  who  his  henchman  had 
selected  for  the  task.  So,  except  in  the  case  of 
Barker,  whom  he  had  brought  himself,  the  patroon 
was  ignorant  of  the  men  who  had  helped  him.  It 
was  impossible,  therefore,  for  him  to  make  inquiries 
among  his  men  in  case  he  suspected  the  truth  of 
Louis's  tale. 

There  was  still  another  point  in  our  favor. 
Miriam  had  not  forgot  her  promise  to  me,  but  her 
father  asked  her  such  shrewd  questions  as  to  what 
had  happened  that  she  fully  believed  I  had  already 


/  MEET  THE  PATROON  AGAIN       247 

told  him  my  adventure.  Upon  that,  with  no  inten- 
tion but  to  emphasize  what  she  supposed  I  had 
already  said,  she  talked  over  all  she  knew  about 
me.  Louis's  account,  coming  after  this,  seemed 
mere  corroboration.  The  dwarf  had  a  cunning 
tongue,  and  at  last  succeeded  in  allaying  all  his 
master's  suspicions.    Then  I  was  sent  for. 

"Ah,  Vincent,"  said  the  patroon  when  I  entered, 
"I  have  been  ill  since  yesterday,  and  Louis  tells  me 
that  you  have  been  hard  used  yourself.  Tell  me  all 
about  it." 

He  made  me  go  through  with  every  detail  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end.  I  could  see  the  nervous 
anxiety  in  his  face,  and  I  could  guess  the  drift  of 
his  thoughts  when  he  questioned  me  concerning 
the  appearance  of  my  assailants. 

He  was  utterly  confused  by  the  discrepancy  be- 
tween what  he  remembered  and  what  he  had  been 
told.  Yet  he  often  recovered  from  these  attacks 
with  wild  memories  in  his  mind,  and  he  could  not 
tell  whether  this  was  one  of  them  or  not.  To  tell 
his  suspicions  truly,  would  be  to  say  that  he  had 
meditated  my  murder.  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg 
was  too  wary  a  man  to  disclose  his  inmost  thoughts. 

I  knew  all  this  was  passing  in  his  mind,  and  that 
in  my  replies  about  the  appearance  of  my  assailants, 
he  hoped  to  recognize  himself  or  Louis.  But  I  took 
care  of  that  and  managed  to  allay  his  suspicions 
for  the  moment,  though  what  his  future  plans  were 
I  never  knew. 


248        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"We  must  complain  of  this  treatment  to  the 
Earl,"  he  said.  "Now,  tell  me  what  happened  be- 
fore, when  you  rode  to  the  city  with  my  daughter. 
How  did  you  fare?  What  did  you  hear?  Did  she 
learn  anything  of  what  is  said  of  me  in  Yorke?" 

I  told  him  many  of  the  details  of  our  ride,  espe- 
cially about  the  meeting  with  the  Earl,  but  he  was 
not  satisfied. 

"Did  you  hear  nothing  as  you  rode  along? 
Nothing  of  what  is  said  of  me?" 

"Yes,  something,"  I  answered  slowly.  "But  it 
was  not  about  you.  I  heard  rumors,  but  they 
seemed  to  have  sHght  significance.  While  we  were 
standing  on  the  Slip,  two  of  the  gray  coated  sol- 
diers—" 

"Ay,  the  governor's  guard;  w'hat  did  they  say?" 

"There  is  a  fear  in  the  city  that  something  is 
going  to  happen.  Omens  have  been  observed.  A 
wall  fell  towards  the  north  against  a  high  wind. 
A  bright  light  was  seen  in  the  northern  sky  three 
nights  ago.  These  things  are  causing  much  ex- 
citement." 

"Excitement  at  what?  What  conclusions  do 
they  draw?" 

"I  could  not  hear;  someone  spoke  of  an  inva- 
sion." 

"Fools !  It  will  not  come  from  the  north.  Par- 
don my  heat.  The  County  Frontenac  is  no  sucK 
fool.  He  has  tried  the  wilderness  before  and  failed. 
No,  it  will  not  come  from  the  north." 


/  MEET  THE  PATROON  AGAIN       249 

"Yet,"  said  I,  "if  the  French  count  has  tried  the 
wilderness  before,  why  may  he  not  try  it  again?  If 
I  were  the  Earl  of  Bellamont,  I  should  look  to  the 
defense  of  Albany." 

"Albany!  Why  yes,  Albany  to  be  sure;  Albany 
is  the  thing.  I  should  defend  Albany  at  all  hazards. 
By  my  faith,  that  is  an  idea,  my  Vincent.  I  should 
advise  the  Earl  myself,  but  I  am  not  in  the  council 
now.    God's  curse  upon  that  man  Le  Bourse." 

I  wished  to  change  the  subject,  now  that  it  drew 
so  near  myself,  and  I  wished  also  to  say  a  word 
for  Miriam.    So  I  spoke  of  the  Red  Band. 

"Your  instructions  to  guard  your  daughters  ears 
make  me  wonder  that  you  do  not  see  that  she  must 
learn  all  this  some  day." 

"All  this?    What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"Your  expulsion  from  the  council,  the  liberties 
of  the  Red  Band,  the  ruin  of  your  house." 

I  expected  an  outbreak  of  anger  in  return  for 
these  plain  words,  but  none  came.  Instead,  the 
patroon  looked  at  me  with  eyes  brimful  of  tears. 

"You  are  right.  The  ruin  of  my  house.  If  only 
I  could  put  it  off,  but  I  cannot.  Miriam,  my 
Miriam,  it  will  fall  hke  death  upon  you;  it  is  com- 
ing, it  is  coming  Hke  a  storm." 

"But  you  can  stop  it.     It  is  not  too  late." 

"It  is  too  late.  How  can  I  stop  it?  I  expected 
the  support  of  my  class.  They  have  drawn  back. 
I  stand  alone.  I  cannot  go  back.  Where  will  my 
honor  be  if  I  desert  my  men?     I  have  led  them 


250    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

on  in  defiance  of  the  law.  Can  I  give  them  up  to 
justice  now?  Would  you  have  me  play  the  coward 
to  save  myself?  The  die  is  cast.  The  Red  Band 
cannot  draw  back.  I  must  lead  them  on,  I  have 
no  more  the  power  to  stop  this  that  I  have  set  my 
hand  to  than  you  have  to  stop  the  sun.  Can  I 
not  see  the  end?  I  and  the  Earl!  Who  am  I? 
And  he  has  the  whole  power  of  England  at  his 
back;  but  I'll  play  the  bull-dog  till  I  die.  I'll  set  the 
horseback  rider  by  the  ears.  The  Red  Band  is  not 
asleep.  Beware,  Earl  Bellamont,  beware.  No 
maid  is  playing  with  you  now.  Do  I  not  see  the 
end?  Do  you  think  a  man  stares  ruin  in  the  face 
and  strikes  a  feeble  blow?" 

His  excitement  had  led  him  on;  but  he  was  show- 
ing me  a  deal  more  of  confidence  than  he  thought 
wise.  He  became  suddenly  more  reserved,  and 
then  dismissed  me  abruptly,  as  if  he  repented  what 
he  had  said,  and  did  not  know  how  to  get  rid 
of  me  in  any  more  delicate  manner.  He  gave  me 
a  command  to  wait  upon  him  later  in  the  day. 
With  that  I  left  the  room. 

And  so  this  chapter  of  my  adventure  ended;  I 
had  been  in  deadly  peril,  and  I  had  escaped;  but 
I  was  in  the  same  uncertain  state  as  before.  What 
would  yet  come  of  it?  That  was  my  thought, 
and  only  time  could  tell. 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  SKELETON  IN  THE  PATROON'S    CLOSET 

As  I  glance  over  the  pages  I  have  just  v^ritten 
I  wonder  whether  anyone  will  believe  the  record 
I  have  set  down.  So  much  happened  during  the 
first  three  days  of  my  residence  at  the  manor-house 
that  the  recollection  of  it  seems  to  me  now  more 
like  some  romance  of  the  old  time  than  of  life 
here  in  New  York  within  the  memory  of  people 
now  alive.  Yet  these  are  events  not  soon  forgotten, 
and  every  detail  clings  in  my  memory  as  fresh  to- 
day as  on  the  day  it  happened. 

When  the  patroon  dismissed  me  there  was  a 
strange,  half-convinced  look  about  him  which  au- 
gured further  trouble.  His  state  of  mind  was  pecul- 
iar, and  later  events  enable  me  to  say  pretty  surely 
what  it  was.  Though  I  was  fairly  free  from  super- 
stition myself,  that  was  a  time  when  it  ran  riot.  In 
that  respect.  Van  Volkenberg  was  the  creature  of 
his  day.  He  felt  many  a  secret  dread  that  could 
never  have  taken  hold  of  me.  Once  he  had  tried 
my  life  at  night;  and  Louis  subsequently  told  me 
that  my  opportune  absence  when  they  came  in- 
spired the  patroon  with  the  unrighteousness  of  his 
act.  He  never  guessed,  nor  did  I  at  the  time,  that 
Meg's  warning  to  me  had  been  due  to  the  prompt- 
ing of  her  son.     Again  he  had  tripped,  captured 

251 


252    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

and  buried  me,  as  he  firmly  believed,  only  to  find 
me  in  his  house  the  next  morning  as  hearty  as 
ever.  And  so  I  became,  to  him,  an  invulnerable 
foe;  I  bore  a  charmed  life.  The  swift  and  deadly 
blows  that  made  such  short  work  of  his  other  ene- 
mies, had,  to  all  appearance,  scarcely  a  finger's 
weight  with  me.  I  grew  vaguely  conscious  of  this 
superstitious  attitude  on  the  part  of  the  patroon 
towards  me,  though  not  until  afterwards  did  I  learn 
how  heavily  the  burden  weighed  upon  his  spirit. 

There  was  not  much  difficulty  in  persuading  the 
patroon  of  the  truth  of  the  story  we  had  put  upon 
him  to  account  for  my  second  escape.  To  him 
it  was  a  fearful  dream,  which  pointed  yet  more 
clearly  to  the  fact  that  I  was  not  the  man  for  him 
to  meddle  with.  This  fact  almost  turned  the  bal- 
ance permanently  in  my  favor,  though  he  still  had 
a  lingering  suspicion  that  I  was  some  sort  of 
spy,  and  I  was  to  feel  still  more  of  his  ill-humor 
on  this  score. 

I  heard  no  more  of  him  that  day.  But  the  next 
he  set  me  to  some  dirty  work  which  was  quite  be- 
neath the  position  in  the  household  that  he  had 
at  first  accorded  me.  On  the  second  day  he  forbade 
me  to  eat  at  the  family  table,  and  banished  me  to 
the  servants'  hall.  In  a  thousand  ways,  he  did  all 
in  his  power  to  make  my  position  as  uncomfortable 
as  he  could.  I  resented  it  much  at  the  time,  and 
was  continually  on  the  point  of  an  angry  outbreak 
of  temper.    One  fact,  however,  more  than  anything 


SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET  253 

else,  deterred  me.  That  was  my  duty  to  Lady 
Marmaduke. 

I  was  heartily  sick  of  the  part  I  was  playing. 
I  had  never  been  ashamed  to  own  my  name  before, 
and,  day  by  day,  the  sound  of  my  false  name  cov- 
ered me  with  more  confusion.  I  felt  like  a  coward, 
and  that  is  a  hard  thought  to  one  who  prides  him- 
self on  his  courage.  It  was  about  this  time  that 
I  began  to  doubt  the  leadership  of  my  stern  mis- 
tress. A  man,  however,  cannot  betray  others  to 
set  himself  right  in  his  own  eyes.  I  had  done  wrong 
to  be  led  into  this  duplicity;  but  I  had  accepted 
a  trust,  and  I  should  consider  myself  doubly  wrong 
to  betray  my  mistress  now.  I  resolved  to  get  out 
of  it  as  soon  as  I  could,  but  not  by  means  of  a 
second  act  of  dishonor. 

Meanwhile,  the  patroon's  ill-treatment  of  me  con- 
tinued. Yet  it  had  its  good  side,  as  I  can  see 
now.  I  had  already  gained  Miriam's  attention  in 
the  recital  of  my  adventure  at  the  tannery.  She 
did  not  share  her  father's  prejudices  against  me. 
The  patroon  had  said  nothing  openly,  except  to 
Louis,  about  his  suspicions  of  my  identity  with 
Le  Bourse.  In  Miriam's  presence,  he  had  been 
especially  careful  to  express  himself  in  a  way  differ- 
ent from  what  he  really  felt.  Doubtless  he  thought 
she  would  repeat  his  compliments  to  me,  thus 
throwing  me  quite  off  my  guard.  In  this  way, 
without  suspecting  it,  he  pleaded  my  cause  to 
Miriam  long  before  it  had  taken  shape  in  my  own 


254        PAT  ROOM  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

mind.  Her  sympathies  were  already  enlisted  in 
my  behalf  when  I  told  her  of  my  narrow  escape. 
Her  father's  present  treatment  of  me  was  so  at 
variance  with  what  he  had  formerly  said  to  her, 
that  she  was  utterly  at  a  loss  to  understand  it. 
"It  must  be  a  mere  whim,"  she  would  say;  or,  "He 
is  ill.  He  does  not  feel  so,  let  me  tell  you."  Then 
she  would  repeat,  just  as  the  patroon  had  expected, 
what  he  had  said  to  her.  Thus,  I  and  my  affairs 
were  constantly  in  her  mind,  as  if  it  was  her  duty  to 
settle  them  and  restore  peace. 

"It  will  wear  off,"  she  said  soothingly,  just  after 
he  had  brought  me  up  sharp  with  an  insulting 
answer.  "He  has  not  been  well  lately.  I  know  he 
does  not  mean  it.    Come,  take  a  walk  with  me." 

So,  twenty  times  a  day,  she  would  speak  to  me 
kindly  and  do  some  little  act  to  soothe  a  reproach 
from  him.  At  last  she  went  to  him  direct  to  appeal 
for  me.  She  has  told  me  many  a  time  since  how 
she  talked  him  out  of  a  sullen  humor.  He  told 
her  flatly  that  he  thought  I  was  Le  Bourse.  Dear 
girl !  She  vouched  for  my  honesty,  and  defended 
me  so  stoutly  that  he  gave  in  at  last. 

"It  is  fate,  Miriam,"  he  said.  "It  is  fate.  Let 
us  cast  lots.    Cry  as  I  toss.    Crown  or  shield?" 

He  took  a  coin  from  his  pocket  and  spun  it 
on  the  table. 

"Crown!"  cried  Miriam. 

"It  is  so,"  said  the  patroon  as  the  coin  flattened 


SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET  255 

down  with  a  jarring  ring.  "Fate  says  that  I  shall 
trust  him.    Call  the  man  in." 

From  that  moment  I  stood  in  the  better  graces 
of  the  master.  There  were  times,  to  be  sure,  when 
I  thought  that  he  still  shared  his  old  suspicions. 
But  for  the  most  part  he  seemed  to  trust  me.  After 
all,  the  silver  buttons  were  a  good  introduction. 
I  had  to  thank  them  for  much. 

I  now  quite  supplanted  Louis.  He  did  not 
seem  to  resent  the  change,  but  followed  or  stayed 
at  home  as  he  was  bid.  Time  went  on  in  this  way 
for  several  days,  during  which  my  own  feelings 
toward  the  master  began  somewhat  to  change.  He 
seemed  in  a  way  to  charm  me.  One  who  looks 
too  long  on  an  uncomfortable  coloi  will  grow  used 
to  it  at  last.  This  fact  and  the  presence  of  Miriam 
did  much  to  account  for  this  spleen  of  toleration. 
Many  a  time  I  had  wondered  how  a  man  of  his 
wicked  practices  could  rise  to  such  a  height  of  in- 
fluence and  power.  Little  by  little  I  came  to  com- 
prehend the  secret  of  his  hold  over  the  affections  of 
his  retainers.  He  was  their  lord  and  master  and 
they  loved  him  as  their  lives.  I  was  soon  to  learn 
of  this  at  first  hand. 

A  few  days  after  he  had  taken  me  into  his  con- 
fidence, the  patroon  set  out  for  a  ride  about  his 
estate.  He  chose  me  instead  of  Louis  to  go  with 
him.  His  new  confidence  in  me  must  have  been 
increased  by  the  growing  distrust  of  Louis;  yet  he 
continued  to  treat  the  dwarf  with  kindness;  nor  was 


256        PATROON   VAN  VOLKENBERG 

Louis  the  least  jealous  of  me,  who  was  fast  taking 
his  place  in  the  affairs  of  his  master. 

The  patroon  and  I  set  out  on  horseback.  It  was 
a  bright  day  full  of  the  sombre  autumn  color.  As 
we  rode  about  we  met  many  persons,  all  of  whom 
were  known  to  the  patroon.  He  had  a  word  and 
a  smile  for  each  of  them;  of  every  one  he  had 
some  kind  inquiry  to  make  of  mother,  brother,  or 
sister;  sometimes  he  would  crack  a  merry  joke, 
or  indulge  in  some  quiet  chaff  that  did  not  hurt. 
Frequently  on  that  ride  I  heard  the  "Good  Pa- 
troon" blessed  for  some  little  act  of  interest,  or  for 
a  bit  of  money  bestowed  without  the  air  of  right- 
eous charity. 

We  had  been  riding  for  an  hour  in  parts  un- 
known to  me,  when  we  came  out  upon  a  cliff  where 
we  could  look  out  over  the  bay  and  catch  a  far- 
away glimpse  across  Long  Island  to  the  turquoise 
sea  beyond.  My  companion  lifted  his  arm  and 
swept  it  slowly  along  the  horizon.  I  was  surprised 
to  see  the  grim,  set  expression  of  seriousness  that 
came  into  his  face.  For  the  last  hour  he  had  been 
entertaining  me  with  merry  tales  of  his  childhood, 
and  of  his  adventures  aboard  ship  when  he  was  a 
young  man.  But  now  all  that  was  gone.  Was 
it  the  vast  presence  of  the  distant  ocean  that  put 
a  curb  on  his  jolly  spirits?  Or  was  there  some 
nearer  motive  close  at  hand,  whose  presence  I  could 
not  see? 

We  sat  side  by  side  for  twenty  minutes.   Neither 


SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET  257 

of  us  spoke  a  word  all  this  time.  Only  now  and 
then  was  the  silence  broken  when  one  of  the  horses 
stamped  impatiently  on  the  ground.  The  patroon's 
face  grew  more  stern  and  lowering.  His  fingers 
doubled  tight  around  the  bridle.  Once  or  twice 
his  lips  moved,  as  if  he  were  talking  to  himself. 
Then  he  struck  his  breast  fiercely  and  pointed  to 
the  blue  ocean. 

'There,  Vincent,  there  lies  the  fortune  of  the  Red 
Band.     By  the  sea  we  live  or  perish." 

I  did  not  know  what  he  meant,  nor  did  I  have  a 
chance  to  ask  him,  for  he  turned  quickly  and  gal- 
loped away,  with  me  hard  at  his  heels.  It  was 
some  time  before  I  was  able  to  come  abreast  of 
him  again,  but  when  I  did  so,  he  opened  the  con- 
versation. 

*'A  man  who  would  be  great  must  keep  his  own 
secrets.  I  know  that  fact  to  my  cost.  I  shall  not 
tell  you  this,  at  least  not  for  the  present;  but  there 
will  come  a  meeting  soon  and  I  shall  need  you 
then." 

He  fell  silent  and  musing.  Evidently  he  was 
much  tossed  about  in  his  own  mind  over  some- 
thing. I  could  see  by  his  face  that  he  was  on  the 
point  of  saying  something  to  me  a  dozen  times, 
and  that  he  checked  himself  in  the  effort  again  and 
again.  Suddenly  these  words  burst  from  him  in 
a  sharp  tone. 

"Van  Ramm  knows  too  many  of  my  secrets.  I 
want  him  killed.    Will  you  do  it?" 


258    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

I  was  thunderstruck  at  the  proposal.  I  looked 
at  him  to  see  if  he  was  in  earnest.  His  face  was 
set  and  rigid,  full  of  heavy  lines,  and  the  corners 
of  his  mouth  were  drawn  down  in  an  evil  fashion. 
My  ears  had  certainly  made  no  mistake.  He  was 
in  earnest.  It  was  a  long  moment  before  I  found 
my  voice. 

"Must  everyone  who  knows  your  secrets  die?" 

''God  damn  you,  no !" 

This  was  no  ribald  oath,  but  uttered  from  the 
very  depths  of  his  soul.  I  knew  as  well  as  I  knew 
my  name  that  I  had  alluded  unknowingly  to  some 
secret  of  his,  perhaps  the  very  one  for  which  he 
sought  the  life  of  his  henchman,  for  a  sudden 
gust  of  terror  seemed  to  leap  into  his  face  at  my 
words.  He  gazed  at  me  for  a  moment  speechless, 
his  jaw  dropped  and  there  was  a  gurgling  rattle  in 
his  throat.  Then  the  mood  seemed  to  pass  slowly, 
and  he  became  himself  again. 

"Do  not  say  that  word  again,  Vincent.  It  cuts 
me  like  a  knife.  There  are  sins  upon  my  soul  you 
cannot  know.  My  God,  if  I  were  only  what  I  used 
to  be.  But  that  day  is  long,  long  passed.  Some- 
times I  think  that  I  am  possessed  by  a  devil.  I 
have  gone  wrong  so  long  that  I  cannot  stop  now 
if  I  would.  I  have  resolved  against  it,  but  I  have 
no  power.  I  can  see  my  ruin  close  before  my 
eyes.  Do  you  think  there  is  no  terror  in  it?  My 
God !  Yet  I  cannot  haste  enough  to  meet  it.  It 
is  like  the  dizziness  that  takes  you  on  a  clifif.     I 


SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET  259 

cannot  keep  back  my  mad  desire  to  leap.  You  are 
my  man.  Answer  me  yes  or  no.  Will  you  kill  the 
dwarf?" 

"No." 

"Then  let  it  be.  T  respect  you  all  the  more  for 
it.  I  wish  I  had  had  men  like  you  about  me  from 
the  first.  Then  I  should  not  see  the  gallows  in  my 
dreams.  But  I  have  done  my  wicked  work  myself 
before.    Let  this  pass." 

There  were  drops  of  sweat  upon  his  forehead 
as  he  galloped  ahead.  But  in  a  short  time  he  had 
thrown  ofif  all  trace  of  this  behavior,  and  what  was 
in  his  mind  then  seemed  to  be  quite  forgotten  now. 
His  merry  tales  returned.  A  beggar  we  met  was 
well  rewarded  for  his  humble  plea  for  alms.  So  we 
continued,  just  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  as  if  we 
had  not  for  a  moment  been  at  swords  points,  almost 
ready  to  fight  over  a  question  of  honor.  And  in 
this  way  we  rode  till  w^e  came  into  the  hills  that 
sheltered  the  cottage  of  Meg. 

"Poor  old  Meg,"  said  the  patroon  gently.  "She 
has  been  ill  since  yonder  night  of  Ronald's  death. 
I  must  stop  and  see  her." 

The  cottage  of  the  old  woman  was  a  tumble- 
down affair,  with  doors  and  windows  all  awry,  and 
the  thatch  hanging  loose  and  all  but  of^f  in  many 
places.  We  dismounted  and  met  the  dwarf  in  the 
doorway. 

"Hist,"  he  said,  cautioning  silence  with  his  raised 
finger. 


260        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"Has  he  come?"  asked  a  feeble  voice  from  in- 
side. 

"The  noise  of  the  horses  must  have  waked  her," 
explained  Louis.    "Come  in." 

We  entered  the  low,  desolate  looking  room.  On 
a  pallet  in  one  corner  lay  Meg  of  the  Hills.  The 
patroon  went  to  her  and  took  her  hand  with  some- 
thing like  afifection  in  his  manner. 

"How  is  the  day  with  you,  my  Meg?" 

"My  Meg,"  she  repeated  plaintively.  "It  is  a 
long  time  since  you  have  called  me  that." 

"Hist,  Meg,  not  so  loud,"  said  the  patroon  in  a 
half-whisper. 

"Why  should  I  hist?"  she  cried  with  a  tinge  of 
anger  in  her  tone.    "Are  you  ashamed  of  me?" 

The  patroon  made  no  reply,  and  in  a  moment 
she  repeated  her  question. 

"Answer  me,  ye  auld  jade,  be  ye  ashamed  of 
me?" 

"Hush,  Meg.  Don't  fall  into  that  ballad-singing 
habit  of  yours.    I  can  stand  anything  but  that." 

"You  stand !  What  have  you  to  stand  compared 
to  me?  It  was  not  always  so.  I  was  fair  to  see  in 
the  old  days  long  gone  by.  Was  I  not  a  bonny  lass 
then,  Kilian?" 

"Ay,  you  were  so,  Meg;  but  that  is  long  gone 
by." 

The  old  woman  moaned.  She  had  regular  fea- 
tures and  may  have  been  a  beauty  once;  but,  as  the 
patroon  said,  it  was  long  ago.     How  wistfully  she 


SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET  261 

must  have  looked  back  upon  what  would  never 
come  again.  There  was  a  pause,  and  Meg  was 
the  first  to  break  it. 

"What  did  you  come  for?" 

"To  see  how  you  were;  to  see  what  I  could  do 
for  you." 

The  last  word  seemed  to  rouse  her  evil  demon. 
She  sat  bolt  up  in  bed  and  clasped  her  hands  tight 
together;  then  she  doubled  her  fists  and  shook 
them  in  his  face  Hke  a  mad  woman. 

"To  do  what  you  can  for  me,  you  "brat  of  hell. 
Have  you  not  had  half  a  Hfe  for  that?  What  have 
you  done  for  me?  You  have  kept  me,  you  would 
say.  Ay,  you  have  kept  me  like  the  old  toothless 
bitch  I  am.  But  you  did  not  keep  me  where  I  should 
have  been.  And  I  could  have  hanged  you  any  time 
these  twenty  years.  But  I  loved  you.  My  God, 
what  will  not  a  woman  do  for  the  man  she  loves !" 

Meg  fell  back  upon  the  pillow  in  exhaustion. 

"So,  so,"  said  the  patroon,  trying  to  soothe  her. 
He  only  made  her  worse.  In  a  moment  she  had 
risen  again  and  was  glowering  at  him  through  fierce 
flashing  eyes. 

"What  have  you  done?"  she  cried  in  a  frenzy, 
snapping  and  wringing  her  long,  bony  fingers. 
"What  have  you  done  for  me  and  mine  these  twenty 
years,  since  you  had  your  fill  of  pleasure  out  of 
me?" 

"Tut,  tut,  Meg,  you  are  wild  to-day." 

"Wild  I  have  ever  been  since  you  cast  me  adrift 


262        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

like  a  gutter  drab  of  Yorke.  Tell  me  what  you 
have  done  for  me  and  mine." 

Her  face  grew  dark  and  sullen  like  an  animal's 
at  bay.  The  patroon  glanced  about  him  and  half 
rose  to  go;  but  she  clutched  his  wrist  and  repeated 
persistently : 

"What  have  you  done?  What  have  you  done? 
iWhat  have  you  done?" 

"You  know  well  enough  what  I  have  done,  my 
Meg,"  said  the  patroon.  He  spoke  quietly,  but  I 
could  see  that  he  was  in  the  grip  of  fear.  Was 
the  woman  going  to  make  a  disclosure?  I  half 
expected  what  it  would  be,  but  I  did  not  guess  the 
half. 

"But  what  have  you  done?"  she  went  on,  stick- 
ing to  her  one  idea. 

"I  have  done  my  best,  Meg.  You  know  that  I 
could  not  do  it  openly,  but  I  have  kept  him  near 
me;  he  wants  for  nothing." 

"Ay,  he  wants  for  nothing  but  his  life." 

"Life?"  cried  the  patroon.  "What  do  you  mean?" 

She  looked  at  him  in  contempt  and  rage. 

"Who  is  it  that  you  say  wants  for  nothing?" 

"Louis,  you  hag,"  he  hissed  between  his  teeth. 
"Louis  Van  Ramm." 

She  fell  into  a  mocking  laugh  that  was  terrible 
to  hear. 

"You  thought  it  was  Louis,  did  you?  He  was 
my  son  well  enough,  born  in  lawful  wedlock;  but 
he  was  no  son  of  yours.    Did  you  think  I  told  the 


SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET  263 

truth  when  I  came  back  to  live  on  you?  Ha,  ha, 
I  was  a  bonny  lass  then.  Do  you  remember  how 
you  pleaded  for  my  love  and  the  use  of  my  shapely 
body?  Til  marry  you,  Meg,  if  anything  goes 
wrong.'  Those  were  your  very  words  and  every- 
thing went  wrong  and — " 

Here  the  patroon  caught  her  by  the  shoulder  and 
shook  her  violently. 

"Stop.    If  Louis  is  not  our  child,  who  is?" 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  You  dolt!  You  idiot!  You  liar, 
thief — "  She  paused  for  a  moment  and  then  al- 
most shrieked  out  the  word  "Murderer." 

"Murderer!" 

"Ay,  murderer.  Louis  is  my  child  but  none  of 
yours.  Our  boy  is  dead.  His  name  was  Ronald 
Guy." 

Then  she  fell  to  singing  that  weird  scrap  of  an 
old  ballad  that  I  had  heard  once  before : 

Is  there  ony  room  at  your  head,  Ronald? 
Is  there  ony  room  at  your  feet? 
Is  there  ony  room  at  your  side,  Ronald, 
Where  fain,  fain  I  wad  sleep? 

The  patroon  sprang  up  from  where  he  had  been 
sitting  on  her  bedside.  He  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands,  and,  for  a  moment,  swayed  back  and 
forth,  but  he  was  not  taken  with  one  of  his  seizures 
as  I  feared.  In  a  moment  more  he  started  for  the 
door. 

"Follow  me,  St.  Vincent,"  he  said,  and  nothing 
more. 


264        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

In  silence  he  mounted  his  horse  and  spurred  des- 
perately away.  I  rode  at  his  stirrup,  awestruck 
and  wondering  what  would  happen  next.  He  re- 
mained silent  so  far  as  words  went,  though  some- 
times he  was  muttering  to  himself.  We  had  nearly 
reached  the  manor-house  when  he  spoke  briefly  in. 
cold  tones,  like  a  man  asleep. 

"I  have  killed  my  son.  The  day  of  reckoning 
has  come." 

A  horror  of  this  man  took  hold  of  me  and  I 
turned  to  bait  him  as  I  would  a  dog. 

"You  thought  Louis  was  your  son  and  you 
wanted  me  to  kill  him." 

The  patroon  stopped  his  horse;  I,  also,  full  in 
front  of  him.    He  stared  me  in  the  face. 

"Don't  try  me,"  he  said  doggedly,  "or  I'll  kill 
you.  Had  I  not  thought  he  was  my  son  he  should 
have  paid  the  penalty  of  what  he  knows  any  day 
these  ten  years  past.  When  all's  said,  I  thought 
him  but  a  bastard.     Ride  after  me  in  silence." 

I  did  as  I  was  bid.  For  the  one  time  in  my  life 
I  felt  completely  cowed.  I  did  not  know  what  to 
do,  and  before  the  reaction  came,  we  had  reached 
the  house  and  Van  Volkenberg  had  disappeared 
in  his  study. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
MEG'S   PLEADING 

Four  days  later  news  came  to  the  manor-house 
that  Meg  of  the  Hills  was  dying.  Since  our  visit 
to  Meg's  cottage  I  had  seen  Httle  of  the  patroon. 
This  particular  afternoon  I  had  spent  in  my  own 
room  in  no  amiable  frame  of  mind.  In  fact,  I  had 
begun  to  ask  myself  why  I  was  at  the  manor-house 
at  all.  I  had  come  to  trap  the  patroon,  yet  what 
had  I  done?  I  had  seen  crimes  committed  before 
my  eyes,  and  I  had  been  asked  to  be  privy  to  yet 
another — the  cold-blooded  murder  of  the  dwarf. 
Why  did  I  not  go  direct  to  the  Earl  at  New  York 
and  expose  my  new  master?  In  truth,  I  do  not 
know,  yet  there  were  many  reasons.  In  the  first 
place,  I  still  hoped  in  a  vague  way  to  learn  more 
about  the  circumstances  of  my  sister's  death.  I 
held  on,  waiting  for  some  bit  of  evidence  that  would 
convict  the  patroon  of  her  murder.  I  had  not  the 
least  doubt  that  he  had  murdered  her,  and  the 
desire  for  revenge  was  too  sweet  to  waste  upon 
other  crimes.  He  must  meet  his  punishment  for 
that  one  and  I  must  be  the  one  to  bring  him  to  it. 

Yet,  as  I  look  back  upon  these  events,  I  know 
that  there  was  still  a  stronger  reason  than  this 
which  stayed  my  hand,  though  I  did  not  realize  it 
at  the  time.     Every  additional  bit  of  confidence 

265 


266    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

that  the  patroon  put  in  me  made  it  harder  for  me 
to  think  of  betraying  my  new  trust.  At  times  I 
caught  the  wild  feverish  desire  of  everyone  about 
the  manor-house  to  keep  it  all  away  from  the 
knowledge  of  his  daughter.  At  those  times  I  would 
be  almost  willing  to  draw  my  sword  in  defense  of 
the  wicked  practices  of  the  Red  Band  rather  than 
have  it  go  to  wreck  and  ruin  over  the  young  mis- 
tress' head. 

But  all  these  thoughts  were  cut  short  by  the 
sound  of  the  patroon's  cane  tapping  in  the  corridor 
towards  my  door.  It  was  not  often  that  he  honored 
me  with  a  personal  visit  like  this  and  I  rose-  to 
receive  him. 

"Get  on  your  traps,"  he  said  abruptly.  "They 
say  that  Meg  is  dying,  and,  before  I  could  stop 
her  Miriam  hurried  of?  to  the  cottage.  Quick  man, 
quick;  you  must  stop  her  ears  again.  What  if  my 
child  should  hear  what  you  heard  the  other  night? 
Hurry,  man,  would  you  have  me  shamed  before 
my  daughter?" 

"For  her  sake  I'll  go,"  I  answered;  but  I  mut- 
tered between  my  teeth  that  it  was  for  none  of  him 
I  went. 

I  did  not  stop  to  saddle  a  horse,  but  went  di- 
rectly on  foot.  It  was  a  mile  or  more  to  the  cot- 
tage, and  when  I  set  out  it  was  about  twilight. 
Before  I  reached  my  destination,  darkness  had 
closed  in.  I  heard  the  low  sound  of  a  single  voice 
as  I  drew  near  the  cottage,  and  when  I  came  to 


MEG'S  PLEADING  267 

the  threshold  the  sight  I  saw  within  made  me 
stop. 

The  moon  was  full  and  the  bright  light  fell  across 
the  floor  in  a  wide  band.  Meg's  face  was  in  the 
shadow,  but  the  lower  half  of  the  cot  on  which 
she  lay  was  shrouded  in  the  light.  Mistress  Mir- 
iam was  kneeling  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  in  the  full 
glow  of  the  light.  She  was  praying,  and  her  hands 
were  clasped  with  her  silver  beaded  rosary  hanging 
across  them.  Since  the  first  night  of  my  arrival 
at  the  manor-house,  I  had  not  often  come  in  con- 
tact with  the  religion  I  had  so  often  cursed.  Now 
a  pang  shot  through  my  heart  and  I  turned  away. 
But  at  that  moment  long  forgotten  words  came 
into  my  mind  like  a  voice  from  the  dead.  "No, 
no,  brother,"  Ruth  had  said  to  me.  "Vincent,  turn 
the  word  of  God  into  your  own  dull  heart  before 
you  judge  your  neighbor." 

So  Ruth,  my  sister,  had  said  to  me.  I  looked  in 
again  at  this  young  woman  praying  in  the  moon- 
light and  my  heart  softened.  From  her  beautiful 
face  I  looked  into  the  shadow  where  lay  the  woman 
with  the  memory  of  her  sin. 

I  could  not  help  but  Hsten.  Miriam's  voice  was 
soft  and  pleading.  It  fell  upon  Meg's  ear  like  a 
promise  of  better  things.  She  stopped  moaning 
and  her  fingers,  which  were  nervously  twitching 
at  the  bedclothes,  grew  still  and  sank  restfully  by 
her  side. 

All  this  time  I  had  been  standing  on  the  step 


268    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

outside,  unknown  to  those  within.  I  had  been  sent 
to  watch  the  young  mistress  and  to  keep  her  from 
hearing  what  she  should  not.  But  I  had  no  strength 
of  will  to  interrupt  this  scene.  I  was  about  to  turn 
away  when  my  attention  was  attracted  by  some 
words  of  Miriam's  prayer. 

"Holy  Mother,  help  this  poor  woman.  Make 
her  happy  in  the  hfe  to  come.  In  the  name  of 
Christ  who  died  let  not  her  death  be  upon  our  head. 
O  God,  what  I  have  heard,  let  it  not  be  true." 

My  first  thought  was  that  the  old  woman  had 
told  her  everything;  but  I  was  soon  undeceived. 
An  interruption  came  from  the  shadow. 

"What  have  you  heard,  my  lass?" 

Miriam  sprang  up  in  excitement;  as  she  did  so 
her  rosary  fell  from  her  hands  to  the  floor  near 
the  door,  where  I  was  standing. 

"O  Meg,"  she  cried  joyfully.  "Can  you  speak 
again?" 

"Ay,  my  dear,  my  head  feels  clearer  now.  But 
what  have  you  heard?" 

"Nothing,  Meg,  nothing  at  all." 

"Tut,  tut,  do  you  think  it  will  worry  the  life  out 
of  me?    Tell  me  what  it  is  you  have  heard?" 

"No,  no,  I  must  not." 

"Miriam,"  cried  the  old  woman,  "I've  loved  you 
all  my  life,  never  ask  why.  There  is  something  on 
my  mind  now.  I  shall  die  easy  if  you  will  tell  me 
what  you  have  heard." 

"O  Meg,  how  can  I?    Such  tales  of  my  father." 


MEG'S  PLEADING  269 

"What  are  they?  I've  got  but  a  few  minutes  left 
to  give  you  comfort  in.  Tell  me,  my  lass,  what  you 
have  heard  that  troubles  you." 

I  had  already  had  experience  of  Meg's  devotion 
to  one  idea.  I  thought  that  now  the  disclosure 
would  come  and  that  it  was  time  for  me  to  step  in 
and  prevent  it.  Yet  I  stood  immovable  as  a  statue 
on  the  outside,  against  my  will. 

"I  have  heard  that  he  was  to  blame  for  your  ill- 
ness, and  that " 

"It  is  a  lie,"  she  cried  fiercely,  rousing  herself 
with  some  of  her  old-time  spirit.  "My  little  lass, 
they  lie  who  say  such  things  as  that." 

Then,  to  my  astonishment,  fell  rapidly  the  old 
woman's  tale.  In  quick,  passionate  words  she 
pleaded  on  behalf  of  the  patroon.  She  forestalled 
every  bit  of  information  that  might  by  accident 
get  to  Miriam's  ears.  She  denied  the  truth  of 
what  the  patroon  had  really  done.  She  put  good 
motives  where  he  had  acted  from  bad.  Was  it  her 
old  love  returning  at  the  last  moment  to  act  in  be- 
half of  the  man  who  had  ruined  her?  Or  was  she, 
too,  like  the  rest  of  us  trying  merely  to  shield  the 
young  mistress?  Everyone  seemed  to  love  her; 
everyone  tried  to  save  her  from  the  ruin  that  we 
all  foresaw.  I  stepped  back  and  retraced  my  way 
to  the  manor-house. 

All  the  way  home  my  mind  was  occupied  with  a 
new  thought.  I  flew  backward  in  imagination  to 
that  scene  on  the  Royal  Lion  when  Ruth  taught 


270        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

me  my  duty  in  words  I  had  forgotten.  From  the 
time  of  our  second  separation,  I  had  been  growing 
still  harder  on  the  Catholics.  My  heart  had  leaped 
■with  joy  when  I  knew  that  I  had  the  patroon  nearly 
in  my  grasp,  and  that  it  was  a  Catholic  I  was  hound- 
ing to  his  ruin.  Yet  Ruth  had  taught  me  to  be 
tolerant.  How  had  I  followed  her  instructions? 
Should  I  not  be  ashamed  of  myself?  Then  Hke  a 
revelation  it  all  came  over  me;  why  I  had  done 
nothing  for  so  many  weeks,  why  I  could  not  play 
false  to  the  patroon,  why  I  stood  spellbound  on  the 
cottage  steps  when  Miriam  was  praying  at  the  old 
woman's  bedside.  When  I  left  the  cottage  I  held 
something  in  my  hand.  Now  I  looked  at  it  passion- 
ately for  a  moment  and  put  it  in  my  bosom. 

When  I  reached  home  I  told  the  patroon  what  I 
had  overheard,  and  that  there  was  no  danger  of  his 
daughter  hearing  anything  he  did  not  wish  her  to 
hear.  I  thought  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes  when 
I  told  him  this. 

"It  is  for  love  of  her,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 
**But  not  for  me.    God  help  her." 

The  patroon  had  nothing  for  me  to  do,  so  I  re- 
turned to  my  room.  But  I  could  not  rest.  After  a 
while — it  must  have  been  towards  midnight — I  rose 
and  went  outside  for  a  breath  of  air.  I  hardly  knew 
where  to  walk.  Then  I  bethought  myself  of 
Miriam  alone  in  the  cottage  among  the  hills.  I  was 
just  turning  in  that  direction  when  I  heard  footsteps 
in  the  gravel  path  behind  me.     I  drew  back  into 


MEG'S  PLEADING  271 

the  shadow  to  conceal  myself  till  I  knew  who  be- 
sides myself  was  stirring  at  this  hour  of  the  night. 
I  soon  recognized  Louis  Van  Ramm  coming  to- 
wards me  slowly.  He  paused  near  where  I  was 
hiding  and  looked  about  him. 

"Where  are  you?"  he  asked  in  a  guarded  whisper. 

"Here,"  I  answered. 

"Ah,  I  thought  I  saw  you.  Let  us  walk  farther 
from  the  house."  When  we  had  gone  a  short  dis- 
tance he  continued  abruptly,  "My  mother  is  dead. 
The  young  mistress  will  stay  there  till  I  come.  I 
told  the  patroon  and  he  was  glad  that  she  was  dead. 
Curse  his  soul!  Now  that  he  knows  Ronald  and 
not  I  was  his  son  I  shall  go  like  the  rest." 

"Why  should  he  want  your  life?"  I  asked. 

"I  know  his  secrets.  Do  you  know  why  Le 
Bourse  died;  and  who  warned  the  Marmadukes?" 

"Was  it  you?" 

"Who  else  would  it  be?  I  knew  you  from  the 
start.  It  was  I  blinded  the  old  fool,  for  I  saw  that 
you  brought  me  a  chance  of  revenge.  He  killed 
Ronald.  He  killed  my  mother.  But  that  is  not  all. 
Do  you  ever  wonder  why  your  sister  died?" 

"For  God's  sake  what  of  that?" 

"Not  much.  She  stumbled  on  one  of  his  secrets 
and  when  she  would  not  refuse  to  tell  she  was  mur- 
dered in  her  bed." 

"Merciful  God,  shall  I  stand  this?  I'll  back  and 
defy  him  to  his  face." 

The  dwarf  caught  me  by  the  arm,     "Not  yet. 


272   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

^Vhat  proof  have  you  except  my  word?  And  any 
morning  may  find  me  dead.  We  have  no  fool  to 
ideal  with  unless  it  is  you." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"You  are  a  Huguenot;  Mistress  Miriam  is  a 
Catholic." 

"What  of  that?" 

"You  would  not  have  asked  that  question  three 
months  ago.  What  did  you  say  to  the  patroon  the 
night  you  came,  when  he  asked  you  to  go  into 
service?    Yet — what  is  that?" 

He  leaned  forward  and  placed  his  hand  upon  my 
breast.    This  action  threw  me  into  a  fury. 

"Hands  off,  you  dog,"  I  cried.  "Stand  back  or 
take  the  consequences." 

"It  is  clear  enough,"  he  replied.  "She  is  the 
witch.  You  cannot  be  trusted.  But  you  are  all  I 
have.  Listen  to  my  story.  When  your  sister  was 
murdered  I  got  word  secretly  to  Lady  Marmaduke. 
The  grave  was  opened  in  her  presence.  She  knew 
that  his  story  about  branding  her  was  a  lie.  Yet 
she  would  not  act.  She  would  not  do  what  I  wanted 
her  to.  If  she  had,  I  should  have  told  her  the  great 
secret.  But  I  did  not  and  that  must  wait."  He 
turned  on  me  sharply.    "Will  you  kill  the  patroon?" 

"He  asked  me  to  do  the  same  by  you." 

"Me?    When?" 

"Four  days  ago." 

"The  day  he  learned  who  Ronald  was.  I  knew 
it  would  be  so.    Why  did  you  refuse?" 


MEG'S  PLEADING  273 

"I  am  not  a  murderer." 

"A  spy?" 

*'No!" 

"What  then?" 

I  could  not  say.    I  stood  in  silent  shame. 

"Well,"  continued  the  dwarf.  "You  are  not  ripe 
for  the  great  secret  yet.  But  remember  one  thing. 
Back  of  the  old  oven  there  are  some  loose  bricks. 
If  I  die  by  violence,  look  there.  You  may  do  my 
bidding  yet." 

By  this  time  we  had  reached  his  mother's  cot- 
tage. Miriam  was  seated  by  the  bed  near  which 
she  had  placed  lighted  candles.  At  our  entrance 
she  rose  and  said  that  she  would  go  home  if  I  would 
take  her.  We  set  out  alone.  The  air  blew  very 
keen  and  chill  in  our  faces  as  we  passed  among  the 
trees  of  the  park.  Little  was  said  by  either  of  us 
till  the  first  cold  from  leaving  the  house  began  to 
wear  away  by  our  brisk  walking.  Then  she  began 
to  speak  of  Meg  and  of  how  she  seemed  happier 
before  she  died. 

"She  said  that  it  was  I  who  made  her  happier. 
In  truth,  I  was  so  happy  myself.  I  had  heard  some 
soldiers  talking  about  my  father  and  saying  what 
I  could  never  believe;  though  it  distressed  me  so. 
Meg  told  me  how  it  was,  and  made  me  feel  ashamed 
of  myself.  I  had  heard  that  he  was  expelled  in  dis- 
grace from  the  governor's  council.  But  it  cannot 
be  so.    Have  you  heard  anything  of  it?" 

"I  know,"  said  I  with  hesitation,  "that  he  is  no 


274   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

longer  a  member  of  the  council.  I  have  heard  that 
when  he  left  it  he  behaved  with  a  dignity  that  car- 
ried the  day  for  honor." 

"How  could  it  be  otherwise?  The  Earl  deals 
with  doubtful  means.  My  father  must  have  become 
disgusted  with  his  dishonest  practices  and  re- 
signed." 

I  said  nothing  to  contradict  her,  nor  had  I  said 
aught  but  what  was  strictly  true.  I  remembered 
well  the  day  we  had  baited  him  before  the  great 
carved  table  in  the  fort,  and  how  much  dignity  he 
had  shown  at  the  end.  Even  then,  for  the  moment, 
I  had  felt  sorry  for  what  I  had  done.  But  my  good 
impulses  were  short-lived;  I  had  much  to  lead  me 
astray  in  those  days. 

"Mistress  Van  Volkenberg,"  I  said  after  a  pause, 
"there  is  something  on  my  mind  to  say  to  you. 
You  know  that  I  am  a  Protestant.  I  have  had  bit- 
ter feelings  towards  people  of  your  faith  and  bitter 
treatment  from  them  for  many  years.  But  it  has 
been  my  lot  to  meet  only  the  worst.  I  had  a  sister 
once" — here  my  voice  trembled  and  I  was  fain  to 
stop  for  a  moment — "I  had  a  sister  once  who  tried 
to  teach  me  better  things.  I  was  slow  to  profit  by 
what  she  said.  But  of  late  your  example  has  made 
me  see  the  wickedness  of  my  ways." 

"Do  not  follow  me,"  she  replied.  "I  am  so  sinful; 
but  I  pray  to  the  blessed  Virgin  every  night,  and 
she  sends  me  strength.  I  know  that  she  will  give 
me  heart  to  do  my  duty." 


MEG'S  PLEADING  275 

"Do  you  really  believe  that?"  I  asked. 

"Of  course,  if  I  pray.  I  shall  get  everything  I 
pray  for  if  I  ought  to  have  it." 

She  spoke  with  a  simpleness  of  faith  that  I  had 
never  felt  in  spite  of  my  confident  pretensions. 

"I  wish  that  I  could  share  your  belief.  But  there 
are  things  I  have  prayed  so  for  without  result." 

"You  must  continue.  I  confess  every  night  upon 
my  knees.  I  wish  I  could  have  a  priest.  I  used  to 
be  afraid  to  confess  my  sins  to  a  real  person,  and 
that  kept  me  good  often  when  I  should  otherwise 
have  done  wrong.  Ah,  me,  there  are  no  priests  in 
the  province  now.  The  new  laws  punish  a  priest 
with  death  if  he  come  to  us.  I  suppose  they  will 
shut  us  out  next." 

This  injustice  made  my  blood  boil.  T  had  been 
driven  out  of  France  because  our  church  had  de- 
sired freedom  to  worship  God  in  our  own  way. 
Here  the  tables  were  completely  turned  and  \  could 
sympathize  with  her. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  manor-house  she  told 
me  that  she  was  going  into  the  little  chapel  room 
to  pray.  Would  I  go  with  her?  I  said  "yes,"  and 
was  surprised  at  my  answer.  I  stood  near  the  door 
while  she  knelt  at  the  foot  of  the  crucifix.  When 
she  arose  I  noticed  that  there  were  two  stools  to 
kneel  upon. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  observing  the  direction  of  my 
glance.  "Little  Ruth  and  I  used  to  kneel  there 
side  by  side.     She  was  of  your  faith,  too.     Often 


276    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

she  would  put  her  arm  about  me  and  pray  in  her 
faith  while  I  prayed  in  mine.  Holy  Mother,  rest 
her  soul." 

She  crossed  herself  devoutly  and  then  we  parted. 
In  my  own  room  that  night,  or  rather,  morning, 
for  it  was  nearly  dawn  when  I  reached  it,  I  fell  to 
sobbing  in  great  misery.  I  began  to  see  the  error 
of  my  ways.  I  remembered  Ruth's  words :  "What 
shall  I  say  at  the  great  day  if  they  charge  'Your 
brother  did  this  or  that  wrong  in  your  name?  An- 
swer me,  Vincent,  what  shall  I  say?'  " 

I  could  do  nothing  but  fall  on  my  knees  and  cry, 
God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.  After  that  I  rose 
with  more  peace  of  mind.  I  put  my  hand  upon  my 
bosom  where  Louis  had  laid  his  upon  me,  and  drew 
out  the  rosary  which  I  had  picked  up  when  Miriam 
dropped  it  on  the  floor  of  Meg's  cottage.  I  held  it 
"before  me  for  a  moment,  then  I  put  it  to  my;  lips 
and  kissed  it  as  a  sacred  thing. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A   FRUITLESS    RESOLUTION 

This  scene  with  Miriam  put  me  in  a  state  of  bad 
humor,  for  all  there  was  in  it  to  make  me  glad.  It 
is  seldom  that  sweet  recollections  come  unmixed 
with  sour,  and  then  the  sour  bite  into  our  thoughts 
and  the  sweet  are  clean  forgotten.  I  ought  to  have 
been  happy  over  the  dear  picture  of  my  sister  and 
her  friend  praying  together,  each  in  her  own  faith, 
as  Miriam  said.  But  I  could  think  only  of  my  own 
loss  in  Ruth's  death,  and  of  what  wicked  ways  I  had 
fallen  into  without  her  to  keep  me  free  of  pitfalls. 
It  was  useless  to  argue  with  myself  that  I  had  been 
driven  against  my  will;  that,  through  my  late 
career,  I  had  chosen  what  seemed  to  be  the  right 
path,  or,  at  least,  the  lesser  of  two  evils.  Such 
meditations  gave  me  no  comfort. 

Here  I  actually  was  in  the  household  of  the 
patroon,  a  spy  not  even  owning  my  name.  My 
present  safety  was  due  mainly  to  Miriam's  interces- 
sion on  my  behalf.  She  had  denied  that  I  was  a  spy 
and  had  vouched  for  my  honesty.  This  added  new 
weight  to  my  burden  of  remorse.  I  tossed  wake- 
fully  on  my  bed  at  night,  wondering  what  would 
happen  if  she  knew  the  truth.  How  she  would  hate 
me  and  despise  me  when  she  found  out  who  I  was. 
I  was  not  only  deceiving  the  patroon,  acting  a  lie 

S77 


278    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

day  by  day;  I  was  also  deceiving  her,  she  who  had 
been  so  kind  to  my  sister,  and  whose  coveted  belief 
in  me  had  become  more  than  I  could  contemplate. 

So,  when  I  rose  in  the  morning-  after  Meg's 
death,  I  was  full  of  a  new  idea.  Come  what  would 
of  it,  I  should  seek  Lady  Marmaduke  that  very  day 
and  demand  my  release.  I  had  gone  to  the  manor- 
house  at  her  instigation  and  felt  myself  bound  to 
her  service;  but  I  would  soon  end  that.  Just  how 
to  accomplish  the  meeting  had  not  occurred  to  me 
as  yet,  but  I  could  not  fail  to  make  a  chance  before 
the  day  was  over. 

For  an  hour  in  the  morning  I  was  busy  in  my 
mind  going  over  the  situation  and  trying  to  read 
the  signs  of  the  times.  I  knew  well  enough  that 
Van  Volkenberg's  expulsion  from  the  council  was 
not  the  end  of  his  account  with  the  governor.  It 
was  but  one  successful  blow  from  his  enemy  and 
was  sure  to  be  returned.  Theirs  was  a  bitter  strug- 
gle that  I  knew  would  end  only  with  the  utter  an- 
nihilation of  one  or  the  other  of  them. 

Could  Van  Volkenberg  possibly  succeed?  He 
was  nearer  to  success  than  I  had  any  idea  of  at  the 
time.  There  were  many  points  in  his  favor.  Cap- 
tain Kidd  was  about  to  arrive — in  fact,  he  had  ar- 
rived during  the  night,  but  we  did  not  know  it  then. 
His  mission  was  now  familiar  to  everyone,  and  the 
fact  that  he  would  recruit  his  crew  in  New  York  was 
also  public.  There  were  so  many  merchants  in  the 
city  whose  trade  would  be  hurt  by  the  suppression 


A  FRUITLESS  RESOLUTION  279 

of  the  buccaneers,  that  ill-feeHng  against  the  Earl 
was  running  high.  The  patroon  made  the  most  of 
this,  coaxing  here,  explaining  there,  till  all  the  dis- 
contented faction  began  to  look  to  him  more  than 
ever  as  their  leader  against  the  Earl. 

Had  the  patroon  been  ready  to  strike  his  blow 
a  few  days  earlier,  I  ween  he  had  overturned  the 
city. 

Bellamont,  on  the  other  hand,  was  likely  to  suffer 
from  too  much  security,  or  fancied  security.  He 
M^as  an  easy-going  man  most  of  the  time;  one  who 
prided  himself  on  his  knowledge  of  the  character 
of  men — a  knowledge  which  he  really  did  not  pos- 
sess at  all.  Through  me  he  had  detected  the  plot- 
ting of  the  patroon.  Governor  Bellamont  thought 
that  the  retirement  of  his  enemy  from  the  council 
in  disgrace  removed  him  altogether  from  the  sphere 
of  troublesome  elements  that  beset  the  King's  pro- 
cesses in  the  province.  There  was  one  person,  how- 
ever, at  his  very  right  hand  who  realized  the  danger. 
Hardly  a  day  passed  that  Lady  Marmaduke  did  not 
w^arn  the  Earl,  did  not  beseech  him  to  use  more 
care  and  watchfulness. 

"No,  no,"  Bellamont  would  answer  in  his  easy- 
going way.  'T  have  killed  him  now.  I'll  get  the 
Assembly  to  reverse  his  grant  and  we  shall  hear  no 
more  of  him." 

But  Lady  Marmaduke  knew  better.  If  the  Earl 
would  not  keep  an  eye  on  the  enemy  she  would. 
She  had  plotted  without  the  Earl  before,  and  was 


280   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

willing  to  do  so  again.  She  had  already  communi- 
cated once  or  twice  with  me.  Through  Annetje 
and  Pierre,  all  the  doings  at  the  manor-house  were 
reported  to  her  promptly.  She  was  ever  watchful 
and  employed  half  a  dozen  men  to  seek  out  bits  of 
gossip  and  trace  home  the  vague  rumors  that  were 
constantly  gaining  ground — rumors  of  some  mys- 
terious danger  that  was  about  to  overwhelm  the 
city. 

I,  too,  was  on  the  alert.  I  had  been  deeply  fired 
at  the  patroon's  part,  whatever  it  was,  in  the  death 
of  my  sister.  Lady  Marmaduke  had  put  her  own 
burning  spirit  into  my  blood  that  time  she  pleaded 
with  me  in  her  own  house,  that  time  she  thrust  her 
finger  into  the  candle  and  I  smelled  the  burning 
flesh.  But  Miriam  had  come  between  us  and  had 
dashed  all  our  plans.  In  her  presence  I  could  see 
nothing  but  my  own  shameless  duplicity  and  the 
effect  it  would  have  on  her  when  she  discovered  mj; 
dishonesty. 

In  the  manor-house  itself  all  was  at  sixes  and 
sevens.  Though  the  patroon  seemed  much  relieved 
over  the  death  of  Meg,  I  could  plainly  see  that 
something  was  on  his  mind.  On  the  day  we  had 
ridden  together  about  his  estate  he  had  pointed  to 
the  ocean  and  said  that  the  fortunes  of  the  Red 
Band  lay  in  that  direction.  One  of  the  recent  ru- 
mors concerned  the  coming  of  a  French  fleet. 
Could  he  be  involved  in  that?  I  knew  that  there 
had  been  mysterious  comings  and  goings  about  the 


A  FRUITLESS  RESOLUTION  281 

manor-house  that  I  had  no  share  in.  Were  there 
other  seamen  to  be  met  with  at  Wolfert  Webber's 
tavern?  Now  that  I  look  back  upon  these  events, 
I  wonder  that  I  did  not  see  the  danger  that  threat- 
ened us.  But  one  who  is  in  the  midst  of  things  is 
ever  bhnd. 

Louis  Van  Ramm  really  held  the  key  to  every- 
thing, for  he  shared  his  master's  most  important 
secrets.  It  was  not  till  later,  however,  that  I  fully 
understood  his  character,  or  why  he  held  back  so 
long.  He  hated  his  master  and  had  hated  him  for 
years;  but  Louis  had  not  the  power  of  action. 
Courage  was  not  wanting  in  his  makeup,  but  he 
lacked  that  power  of  self-reliance  that  would  enable 
him  to  take  the  initiative  in  overthrowing  the 
patroon.  He  knew  that  I  was  set  on  the  ruin  of 
Van  Volkenberg,  and  hoped  to  put  the  proper  cards 
in  my  hand,  thinking  that  I  would  play  them  freely 
without  let  or  hindrance. 

Such  was  the  confused  state  of  affairs  at  the  time 
I  made  my  resolution  to  go  to  Lady  Marmaduke 
and  assert  my  independence  of  her  service.  I  should 
have  set  off  alone  for  the  city  that  morning  had 
not  the  patroon  sent  for  me  to  accompany  him  to 
Yorke  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

I  said  that  Captain  Kidd  had  arrived  in  the  night, 
though  we  did  not  know  the  fact  when  we  set  out. 
,The  wind  was  southerly  that  morning,  and  we  had 
not  gone  far,  when  it  brought  us  the  sound  of  a 
gun. 


282    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

''Ha,"  said  the  patroon.  "Doubtless  that  is  to 
welcome  the  Adventure." 

And  sure  enough  it  was.  Kidd's  ship  had  been 
in  the  bay  all  night  and,  as  we  soon  found,  was 
coming  up  to  the  town.  It  had  been  some  hour 
anchored  when  the  patroon  and  I  rode  up  to  the 
Slip  to  look  at  it. 

"A  tidy  ship,"  said  the  patroon  after  examining 
it  as  thoroughly  as  he  could  from  the  shore.  "One 
that  could  sail  far  with  a  safe  crew.  New  York 
must  furnish  him  good  recruits,  St.  Vincent."  He 
laughed  in  a  low,  satisfied  way,  as  if  at  some  joke 
of  his  own.  "Ay,  we  must  serve  him  with  a  good 
crew." 

1  had  thought  that  he  had  ridden  to  the  city  on 
business,  but  such  seemed  not  to  be  the  case.  We 
set  out  on  our  return  immediately.  To  be  sure, 
we  did  not  go  directly  home,  but  rode  about  in  a 
wandering  way  from  street  to  street,  like  strangers 
viewing  the  town  for  the  first  time.  All  the  while 
my  master  glanced  from  side  to  side,  eyeing  every 
person  who  passed  as  if  he  were  in  search  of  some- 
one. Suddenly  I  heard  an  exclamation.  Van  Vol- 
kenberg  drew  in  his  horse  just  as  a  stranger  stepped 
out  from  the  stream  of  passengers  at  the  side  of 
the  street.  This  person  was  dressed  in  ordinary 
clothes,  but  I  knew  from  his  walk  that  he  was  a 
seaman. 

"Well,  William,"  said  the  patroon,  as  soon  as 
they   had   greeted    each   other,    which   they   did 


A  FRUITLESS  RESOLUTION  283 

warmly,  as  if  they  were  old  friends  long  parted. 
"How  does  New  York  look  to  you  now?" 

"Much  as  usual.  But  I  see  that  the  privy-council 
is  changed  a  bit." 

"Ay,  changed  for  the  worst."  They  both 
laughed  good  humoredly,  "What  else  do  you  no- 
tice?" 

"Your  French  County  seems  to  be  on  the  war- 
path again." 

"Yes,  there  are  rumors  to  that  effect;  but  I  put 
no  faith  in  them.  Still,  everyone  believes  them 
here.  It  would  be  a  good  thing  for  the  governor  to 
garrison  Fort  Orange,  if  only  to  allay  public  excite- 
ment. It  would  be  easier  to  stop  him  at  Albany 
than  at  any  other  place." 

At  that  moment  one  of  Van  Volkenberg's  clerks 
came  up  and  put  a  paper  into  his  master's  hand. 

"I  have  been  looking  everywhere  for  you." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  patroon.  "This  needs  my 
attention."  Then,  turning  to  the  stranger,  he  con- 
tinued: "I  must  back  to  the  warehouse,  William. 
Remember  our  appointment;  midnight  on  the 
river." 

We  rode  ol¥  directly  to  the  patroon's  warehouse 
on  the  Slip.  Before  we  had  gone  far  the  patroon 
put  the  letter  into  my  hand.  It  was  but  a  line  and 
signed  by  one  of  the  confidential  clerks.     It  read : 

"Lady  Marmaduke  is  about  to  appeal  to  the  As- 
sembly to  stop  the  troops." 


284   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"It  is  Greek  to  me,"  I  answered.  "What  does  it 
mean?" 

"You  suggested  it  yourself.  Bellamont  has  de- 
cided to  fortify  Albany,  and  is  going  to  send  off 
three  of  the  city  companies  to-morrow  or  next  day." 

"What  has  Lady  Marmaduke  to  do  with  it? 
Why  does  she  want  the  troops  stopped?" 

"Have  you  not  heard  the  rumors?  Some  people 
here  in  the  city  believe  that  there  is  danger  from  a 
French  fleet.  They  have  not  forgotten  how  help- 
less Stuyvesant  was  in  '64.  I  tell  you,  St.  Vincent, 
there  is  no  danger  from  the  sea.  Frontenac  is  the 
man  to  fear.  I  would  wager  my  estate  he  is  coming 
through  the  wilderness,  and  has  set  these  notions 
in  the  air  himself  to  keep  attention  off  from  Albany. 
He  is  a  shrewd  old  fox,  and  if  the  troops  are  stopped 
we  shall  get  a  message  down  the  river  soon :  Hkely 
as  not  the  county's  greeting  and  news  that  Fort 
Orange  is  taken." 

"If  all  this  is  true  why  should  Lady  Marmaduke 
oppose  it?" 

"Because  she  is  a  fool.  She  believes  the  gossip 
of  the  street.  She  has  already  tried  to  convince  the 
Earl.  But  he  has  more  sense.  I  hate  him,  but,  I 
declare,  he  demands  respect  in  this." 

We  had  reached  the  patroon's  door  by  this  time, 
and  the  clerk  who  had  signed  the  note  came  out  to 
meet  him. 

"When  does  the  Assembly  adjourn?"  asked  the 
patroon  aloud,  after  a  short  whispered  consultation. 


A  FRUITLESS  RESOLUTION  285 

"They  have  moved  to  adjourn  for  a  week  at  noon 
to-day." 

"Can  Lady  Marmaduke  sway  them  to  her 
wishes?" 

"There  is  little  doubt  of  it." 

"Then  she  must  be  kept  away.  St.  Vincent,  ride 
to  Marmaduke  Hall.  Keep  the  mistress  in  conver- 
sation for  an  hour  and  a  half.  Ask  her  what  became 
of  Le  Bourse.  Tell  her  I  shall  oust  her  from  her 
estate,  break  her  title,  anything  you  please.  Stay 
there  till  noon  and  occupy  her  time.  She  must  not 
stop  the  troops.    Go;  instantly !" 

There  was  no  resisting  the  patroon's  haste.  In 
the  next  breath  I  was  galloping  at  breakneck  speed 
to  my  lady's  house.  What  a  coincidence !  All  the 
forenoon  I  had  been  racking  my  brain  to  find  a  way 
to  meet  her  and  withdraw  from  my  task  of  spy. 
Now  the  chance  was  made.  It  filled  my  mind. 
Before  I  turned  the  first  corner  the  Earl,  the 
troops,  and  Albany  were  quite  forgotten.  I  could 
think  only  of  the  stormy  meeting  before  me  and 
how  I  had  best  carry  it  through. 

I  banged  the  brass  knocker  with  a  will,  and  was 
shown  into  the  receiving  room.  The  name  I 
sent  to  the  mistress  was  Henrie  St.  Vincent,  of 
the  Hanging  Rock.  She  knew  it  and  came  in  a 
trice. 

"What  news  do  you  bring?"  she  cried,  sweeping 
into  the  room  like  a  blast  of  wind.  "How  do  you 
come  so  openly,  Le  Bourse?" 


286        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

"St.  Vincent." 

"Tush !  There  is  no  one  to  hear.  What  is  your 
news.    What  have  you  learned?" 

"Nothing." 

"Nothing?    Then  why  do  you  come  here?" 

"I  am  tired  of  my  work.    I  want  to  give  it  up." 

**Give  up?    You  coward!" 

"I  knew  you  would  say  that." 

"Then  you  deserve  it." 

"I  do  not." 

"Explain  yourself." 

I  told  her  briefly  the  confidence  that  the  patroon 
had  placed  in  me  and  the  way  the  deception  gnawed 
my  conscience.  I  did  not  move  her  in  the  least. 
Her  Hps  curled  in  scorn  and  she  gripped  her  hands 
together  till  they  were  all  mottled  red  and  white 
with  the  pressure. 

"Sit  down,"  she  said  in  a  tone  so  cold  and  biting 
that  it  made  me  shiver.  "If  you  are  going  to  leave 
my  service  I  shall  dismiss  you  like  a  man." 

She  strode  haughtily  across  the  room  and  poured 
out  two  glasses  of  wine.  She  came  back  and 
handed  one  of  them  to  me. 

"My  dear  Michael,"  she  began.  "I  am  a  stormy 
woman.  I  repent  of  what  I  said  to  you.  Here  we 
part.  Rise  and  lift  your  glass.  We  shall  drink  a 
toast  before  you  go." 

I  stood  up.  This  was  easier  than  I  had  expected. 
I  had  counted  on  more  of  a  scene  and  could  almost 
smile  at  the  ease  of  my  achievement. 


A  FRUITLESS  RESOLUTION  28T 

"You  do  me  honor,  Lady  Marmaduke.  I  hardly 
hoped  that  you  would  sympathize  with  my  con- 
science.   Propose  your  toast." 

''Can  you  guess  who  it  is?" 

"The  Earl?" 

"No." 

I  laughed.    "Our  friend,  the  patroon?" 

"The  patroon  of  Hanging  Rock?  Yes,  but  by 
a  different  title.  Drink,  Michael.  Long  life  and 
happiness  to  the  seducer  of  your  sister." 

"My  God !"  I  cried,  dashing  glass  and  all  upon 
the  floor.    "What  do  you  mean?" 

"You  know  well  enough.  I  told  you  long  ago 
that  he  visited  her  room  that  night  she  died.  We 
of  the  aristocracy  here  think  little  of  our  bond- 
slaves. They  are  mere  chattels  to  our  lust.  Why 
should  they  not  minister  to  our  pleasure.  Why 
should  not  Ruth — " 

"Stop!  You  are  baiting  me.  You  do  not  know 
this.  Louis  said  that  she  was  murdered,  but  not 
that  she  was — " 

"You  know  that?  You  will  not  strike  her  mur- 
derer? You  craven  coward !  And  I  know  why  you 
halt.    You  love  the  Catholic  woman." 

"What  if  I  do?    She  loved  my  sister." 

"Ah,  she  loved  your  sister  and  you  love  her;  he 
killed  your  sister  and  you  love  him." 

"What  can  I  do?    He  is  her  father." 

"Do  you  remember  a  masterless  man  who  once 


288    PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

came  into  this  very  room  to  smell  the  smell  of  burn- 
ing flesh?" 

"Don't,  don't." 

"Why  don't?  What  do  you  care  now?  Your 
sister's  agony,  the  tortured  flesh  quivering  under 
the  iron's  heat — why,  man,  you  should  thank  God 
for  that.  How  else  would  you  have  gone  to  the 
house  at  Hanging  Rock?  How  else  would  you 
have  met  your  wonderful,  adorable,  queen  of  your 
heart,  the  Catholic  Miriam?  How  Ruth  loved 
Catholics !  Get  down  on  your  knees,  man.  Your 
sister's  martyrdom  has  brought  you  a  love.  It 
brings  you  a  home,  position,  with  the  name  of 
coward  and  of  traitor  to  my  trust.  Thank  God,  I 
say;  thank  God," 

"You  are  unjust.  Lady  Marmaduke.  You  do 
not  understand  me." 

"My  dearest  Michael,  I  understand  you  perfectly. 
It  was  in  the  beginning  that  I  made  the  mistake. 
I  took  you  for  a  man.  I  supposed  flesh  and  blood 
could  not  forget  the  debt  you  owe  the  patroon. 
But  'twas  a  small  debt  after  all.  What  is  a  sister 
ruined  and  murdered  to  a  father-in-law  who  ruined 
her?  Ha,  ha,  ha,  Michael;  do  you  think  I  misun- 
derstand you  now?" 

This  was  hard  treatment  and  it  took  my  resolu- 
tion as  the  summer  dries  a  stream.  I  could  stand 
ridicule — though  that  hurt  me  more  than  most 
things — but  the  worst  was  that  the  picture  she  drew 
was  true.     I  had  never  admitted  to  myself  that  I 


A  FRUITLESS  RESOLUTION  289 

felt  more  than  mere  respect  for  Miriam,  At  that 
moment  I  believe  I  hated  her. 

*'I  took  you  in,"  continued  my  tormenter.  "Now 
you  may  go.  Perhaps  he  will  murder  you."  How 
this  struck  home  in  the  light  of  what  he  had  already 
done.  "Perhaps  he  will  give  you  his  daughter  in 
marriage." 

"I  don't  want  his  daughter." 

"Hoity  toity,  child.  Don't  break  your  china 
doll  now  it  is  in  your  hands.  What  will  you  have 
in  exchange  for  your  peerless  sister?" 

"I  want  revenge." 

"And  refuse  to  take  it!  Bah,  you  talk  like  a 
fool." 

"I  have  talked  like  a  fool.  But  now  I  swear  to 
hound  this  hell-cat  to  his  death." 

"And  Miriam?" 

"As  we  sow,  so  must  we  reap.  Let  us  spare  her 
if  we  can,  but — " 

"Whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  my 
Michael.  I  come  not  to  bring  peace  into  the  world, 
but  a  sword.    This  is  the  word  of  God,  my  child." 

She  had  slipped  her  arm  about  me  and  was  talk- 
ing in  the  gentler  manner  in  which  she  had  com- 
forted me  the  time  I  first  learned  the  news  of  my 
sister's  fate. 

Half  an  hour  later  I  left  the  hall,  sullen,  resolved 
and  conquered.  Yes;  once  more  the  strength  of  her 
spirit  had  proved  greater  than  the  strength  of  mine. 
I  must  see  more  and  be  tried  again  before  the  final 


290        PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

break  should  come.  And  when  it  came,  like  a  flash, 
like  a  thief  in  the  night,  some  who  were  upon  the 
housetop  came  not  down,  but  were  taken  in  their 
sins.  And  others  like  myself  were  spared  to  learn 
the  glory  of  God  through  goodness  and  mercy  in 
return  for  sin  and  evil. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

VAN  VOLKENBERG  AND  THE  EARL 

The  next  day  was  the  beginning  of  that  period 
that  led  rapidly  to  the  end.  A  few  days  later  and 
all  was  over;  there  was  no  Red  Band  left  to  threaten 
New  York,  and  I — I  had  suffered  untold  remorse 
for  my  cunning  and  deceit. 

Meantime  the  uncertain  breath  of  rumor  that  I 
had  heard  upon  the  Slip  had  grown  into  a  gale  of 
certainty.  People  stopped  at  corners  in  a  fright- 
ened sort  of  way  to  discuss  the  former  invasions  of 
the  French.  The  Coffee-House  was  full  to  over- 
flowing, and  the  conversation  always  turned  upon 
the  last  invasion  of  the  County  Frontenac,  or  upon 
our  long  immunity  from  northward  danger.  But 
at  last,  we  all  thought,  peace  was  at  an  end.  Cer- 
tainty of  the  coming  of  danger  was  quickly  followed 
by  fear  of  what  would  follow  in  case  of  a  descent 
from  the  Canadian  frontier.  It  was  a  long  way  to 
Albany,  to  be  sure,  but  the  fort  at  Albany  was  weak. 
If  that  were  once  taken  the  enemy  would  have  a 
free  path  to  our  very  doors. 

So  the  people  fell  to  work  in  haste  to  repair  the 
wall  which  toppled  across  the  island  in  a  miserable 
state  of  repair.  The  trench  on  the  inside  was 
cleaned  out  and  deepened.  New  palisades  were 
put  in  to  replace  some  of  the  old  ones  that  had 

291 


292   PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

rotted  through  and  were  ready  to  fall  from  their 
own  weight.  The  gates  were  hung  anew  and  a 
guard  stationed  at  them.  Sunrise  and  sunset  saw 
them  securely  locked.  While  the  gates  were  locked 
no  one  was  allowed  to  leave  the  city  without  a  pass 
signed  by  the  governor  and  stamped  with  the  great 
seal  of  the  province. 

Often  by  day  you  would  see  great  swarms  of 
people  clustered  about  upon  the  ledge  of  rocks 
west  of  the  city  just  at  the  foot  of  the  stockade, 
W'ith  their  eyes  turned  up  river,  as  if  they  expected 
to  see  a  French  flotilla  appear  in  sight  at  any  mo- 
ment. The  little  wicket  gate  through  which  I  had 
fled  with  the  suspicious  sailors  the  night  before  Van 
Volkenberg's  disgrace  was  now  seldom  closed  in 
the  daytime.  Through  it  staggered  a  stream  of 
fearful  people,  ever  on  the  lookout  for  the  invader. 

The  excitement  was  no  less  on  the  island  north 
of  the  city  wall.  All  the  little  hamlets  between  New 
York  and  Harlem  were  making  preparations  for 
defense,  drilling  and  mustering  men  into  companies 
to  meet  the  stranger.  Every  afternoon  and  evening 
the  Red  Band  assembled  on  the  terrace  to  practice 
the  use  of  arms,  marching  and  countermarching, 
and  all  things  needful  for  the  little  army  of  the 
patroon.  They  moved  like  clockwork.  There  were 
no  soldiers  like  them  in  the  whole  province;  even 
the  governor's  guard  was  not  so  well  trained  by 
half.  Still  there  was  no  visible  sign  of  danger.  A 
post  came  in  from  Albany  and  reported  that  all 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  AND  THE  EARL  293 

was  peaceful  in  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Orange. 

This  ferment  had  grown  to  a  head  while  our  at- 
tention at  the  manor-house  was  attracted  to  other 
things.  It  was  on  the  night  after  the  death  of  Meg 
— or,  was  it  the  next  night?  I  forget,  but  it  makes 
no  difference — that  I  sat  in  my  room  reading  the 
little  Bible  that  I  had  carried  ever  since  the  old 
days  in  France.  Suddenly  I  was  startled  by  a  sharp 
scraping  sound  apparently  in  my  own  room.  I 
listened  a  moment  attentively  and  placed  the  sound 
low  down  near  the  door.  There  was  a  pause ;  then, 
after  a  moment's  silence,  the  scraping  began  again. 

"Begone,"  I  cried,  with  a  loud  stamp  of  my  foot, 
supposing,  of  course,  that  rats  were  gnawing  in  the 
wainscot. 

At  the  sound  of  my  voice  there  was  a  rustle  like 
skirts  in  the  hall,  and  then  I  was  sure  I  heard  light 
footsteps  running  away  from  my  door.  I  rose 
quickly  and  opened  it.  All  was  dark  in  the  hall, 
and  there  was  no  sign  of  any  visitor.  I  sat  down 
again,  wondering  who  it  was  and  whether  the 
visitor  would  return.  Perhaps  ten  minutes  passed, 
during  which  I  heard  nothing,  though  I  listened 
with  both  my  ears.  Then  of  a  sudden,  without  any 
foresounds,  the  scratching  began  again.  I  rose  very 
quietly  with  my  candle  in  my  hand,  and  tip-toed 
across  the  room.  I  took  care  to  make  no  noise  this 
time,  for  I  wanted  to  surprise  my  visitor,  and  find 
out  who  she  was.  I  turned  the  knob  softly  without 
letting  the  door  give  an  inch,  paused  a  moment  to 


294    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

get  my  weight  right,  and  then  flung  the  door  wide 
open  with  my  candle  held  high  above  my  head. 

There  stood  Annetje  Dorn,  with  her  fingers  to 
her  lips  for  silence. 

"Follow  me,"  she  whispered.  "But  don't  make 
the  least  noise." 

She  led  me  a  long  way  till  we  came  out  after 
many  wanderings  upon  a  little  balcony  on  the  out- 
side of  the  house  under  the  eaves.  In  the  shadow 
before  us  I  could  just  make  out  the  vague  form  of 
a  man  who  was  awaiting  us. 

"It  is  Pierre,"  she  whispered;  and  the  next  mo- 
ment we  were  talking  in  guarded  whispers.  She 
had  smuggled  him  into  the  house  and  up  here  so 
that  he  could  deliver  his  message  to  me  without 
danger  of  being  overheard  by  stray  persons  about 
the  house.  But  after  all,  his  message  to  me  was 
small  enough,  if  it  was  worth  being  called  a  message 
at  all.  But  I  learned  something  of  importance  from 
him,  for  all  that. 

"Lady  Marmaduke  is  getting  so  anxious  that 
she  would  have  it  that  I  come  and  speak  with  you, 
danger  or  no  danger,"  said  Pierre.  "Have  you  any 
word  to  send  her?" 

I  told  him  briefly  that  nothing  of  importance  had 
happened.  Then  I  asked  him  what  news  he  could 
give  me  from  the  city.  Matters  were  in  a  much 
worse  state  there  than  I  had  thought. 

"The  citizens,"  said  Pierre,  "are  like  chicks  with- 
out their  mother." 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  AND  THE  EARL  295 

"They'd  duck  you  if  they  heard  that,"  put  in 
Annetje,  who  always  enjoyed  a  fling  at  Pierre  for 
his  former  escapade.  "It  is  just  the  thing  for  people 
who  talk  too  much.  Now  there  was  Long  Mary 
once — " 

"Never  mind  Long  Mary  or  you'll  get  ducked 
yourself.  Monsieur  Le  Bourse,  they  are  just  as  I 
said,  like  chicks  without  their  mother.  They  run 
here  and  there  and  everywhere,  chirping  for  the 
governor  to  do  something.  There  is  nothing  he 
can  do  unless  he  loads  up  the  guns  on  the  Battery 
and  shoots  them  at  the  bay.  I  wish  he  would.  It 
would  make  safer  ducking,  which  I  should  like  in 
case  Annetje — " 

Her  hand  smothered  the  rest  of  this,  whatever 
it  was. 

"If  I  were  the  governor,"  broke  in  Annetje,  try- 
ing to  keep  her  muzzling  hand  over  her  sweet- 
heart's mouth.  "I  should  do  something.  I  am 
sure  I  don't  know  what  there  is  to  be  done.  But 
look  how  the  patroon  always  does  something  right 
away.  He  always  knows  that  something  is  to  be 
done  and  just  what  it  is.  He  never  waits  a  minute. 
The  governor  always  puts  things  off." 

"So,  ho,"  retorted  Pierre,  getting  free  at  last. 
"What  do  you  know  about  it?  Have  you  ever 
heard  the  saying:  Gray  heads  on  green  shoulders?" 

"Ay,  ay,  and  green  heads  on  gray  shoulders." 

"Bah,  I  am  only  a  year  older  than  you.    But  gray 


296        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

heads  can  hide  their  green  shoulders  by  holding 
their  tongues." 

"Try  it  then  and  see.  Now,  Monsieur  St.  Vin- 
cent, if  you  please,  what  is  there  to  be  done?  Pierre 
told  me  before  I  fetched  you  up  that  if  something 
were  not  done  before  to-morrow  three  companies 
of  the  guard  would  be  sent  up  the  river  to  protect 
Fort  Orange." 

"That's  what  Lady  Marmaduke  is  afraid  of,'* 
broke  in  Pierre.  "With  only  one  company  left  in 
the  fort  and  the  Red  Band  gathering — that  looks 
like  trouble.  There  are  seven  of  the  patroon's  ships 
in  the  harbor  at  this  blessed  moment,  and  that  is 
more  than  there  has  been  at  any  one  time  these  ten 
years  past.  Some  of  them  have  been  here  a  month. 
Why  does  he  not  fill  'em  up  and  let  'em  go  their 
way  a-trading?" 

I  had  already  noticed  that  more  and  more  men 
came  to  the  drill  as  each  day  went  by,  but,  be- 
fore this,  I  had  not  known  the  cause.  However,  I 
had  no  intelligence  to  send  on  that  score;  Pierre 
seemed  to  know  more  about  it  than  I  did,  and  so 
he  went  back  to  the  city  with  nothing  of  account 
to  relate  to  his  mistress  for  all  the  danger  of  his 
errand. 

Since  the  day  on  which  the  patroon  had  been 
dismissed  in  disgrace  from  the  privy-council  he  had 
not  visited  the  city  in  state;  not  since  that  first  day 
when  Pierre  and  I  had  wandered  out  north  of  the 
city  by  the  Collect,  where  he  told  me  of  my  sister's 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  AND  THE  EARL  297 

fate.  On  our  return  that  day,  we  had  nearly 
reached  the  Kissing  Bridge  when  the  trampHng  of 
horses  sent  us  to  the  bushes  for  concealment.  I 
remember  to  this  hour  how  the  patroon  looked  as 
he  rode  by  with  Louis  by  his  side  and  the  Red 
Band  two  and  two  at  his  heels.  They  made  a  brave 
sight,  but  since  his  disgrace,  the  patroon  had  not 
ridden  in  that  way.  When  his  affairs  called  him  to 
town  he  went  alone  or  with  only  Louis  or  me  to 
accompany  him. 

But  to-day,  he  resolved  to  ride  in  state.  An  early 
summons  came  to  wait  upon  the  master.  By  ten 
o'clock  a  splendid  retinue  was  ready  to  set  out  for 
New  York.  Van  Volkenberg  was  at  the  head  with 
Louis  upon  one  side  and  me  upon  the  other.  Be- 
hind us,  in  rows  of  four,  came  one  hundred  and 
fifty  chosen  men  in  the  full  livery  of  the  Red  Band. 
They  wore  cloth  of  a  dark  olive  green,  and  on  the 
left  arm  the  band  of  brilliant  red,  which  was  their 
distinctive  badge  of  service.  The  English  flag  and 
the  patroon's  banner  flapped  merrily  as  we  galloped 
over  the  half-frozen  ground.  This  was  the  very 
road  over  which  I  had  followed  Louis  to  the  print- 
ing shop  of  Bradford.  I  compared  that  night  to 
this  day  and  wondered  what  was  the  meaning  of 
all  this  display  of  force.  Could  it  be  that  the  wheel 
had  come  full  circle?  Was  it  the  patroon's  turn 
now?  He  had  often  told  me  that  it  was  dangerous 
to  drive  a  sullen  foe  to  bay. 

Meantime  the  patroon  rode  proudly  at  the  head 


298        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

of  his  company.  We  were  half  way  to  the  city  when 
he  motioned  me  to  ride  a  Httle  closer,  and  Louis  to 
fall  back  out  of  earshot. 

"St.  Vincent,"  he  said,  "do  you  remember  the 
conversation  we  had  a  few  days  ago?  Well,  I  am 
going  to  take  your  advice.  I  am  an  old  man,  most 
too  old  to  begin,  and  it  is  ill  work  to  teach  an  old 
dog  new  tricks,  as  the  proverb  says;  but  I  shall  do 
it,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I'll  do  it."  He  broke  into 
a  boisterous  laugh.  "Oh,  it  makes  me  feel  young 
again.  I've  been  like  one  gone  mad,  many  a  time 
of  late.  Somehow  I  feel  free  again.  Your  rough 
words  the  other  day  put  new  life  into  me.  Thank 
you,  Vincent,  I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart.  Perhaps  you  do  not  remember  what  you 
said.  That  is  often  the  case  with  people  who  do 
more  good  by  their  stray  acts  than  they  know  at 
the  time.  Ah,  Vincent,  you  don't  know  how  far 
a  little  word  sometimes  reaches.  Maybe  it  was  only 
your  tone  at  the  time.  At  any  rate,  I  have  turned 
over  a  new  leaf.  Can  you  guess  what  I  am  going 
to  do?" 

"No,"  I  answered.    "I  cannot." 

"  'Tis  this :  I  am  going  to  offer  my  household  to 
the  Earl  in  defense  of  the  city." 

He  jerked  this  out  in  quick  sudden  breaths  as  if 
it  hurt  him  to  say  it,  and  there  was  a  tightening 
about  his  lips  that  seemed  to  indicate  the  struggle 
it  had  taken  and  was  still  taking  to  keep  him  up  to 
this  honorable  resolution.    But  there  was  a  doubt 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  AND  THE  EARL  299 

in  my  mind,  however  glad  I  was  to  see  this  change 
in  a  man  whom  I  had  given  'ip  as  almost  altogether 
bad. 

"Do  you  think  he  will  accept  your  help?"  I  asked, 
putting  my  doubt  into  words. 

A  shadow  crossed  his  face. 

"I  have  thought  of  that.  I  know  that  my  motives 
are  likely  to  be  misunderstood  in  the  light  of  my 
past  actions.  But  I  must  put  up  with  that.  A  man 
can  do  no  better  than  his  best." 

He  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  then  sat  square 
in  the  saddle  again.  We  were  now  hard  upon  the 
Landport  where  workmen  were  still  busy  hanging 
the  clumsy  gates  that  had  for  so  long  a  time  been 
out  of  use.  We  rode  through  the  open  way  and 
into  the  crooked  streets  of  the  city.  In  a  moment 
they  were  swarming  with  people,  come  out  to  see 
the  Red  Band  go  by.  Never  before  had  it  made 
such  a  fine  appearance.  Never  before  had  the  peo- 
ple tossed  up  their  caps  like  one  man  and  cried : 
"God  save  the  good  patroon,  the  defender  of  the 
city."  For  rumor  had  gone  hotfoot  ahead  of  us 
and,  somehow,  the  people  were  aware  of  the  errand 
which  had  brought  us  to  the  city.  They  knew  that 
the  Red  Band  had  come  to  fight  for  the  town.  Old 
hate  was  forgotten.  The  frequent  brawls  with  the 
patroon's  sailors  were  not  called  to  mind.  And  all 
went  as  merry  as  the  bells  of  Trinity  on  a  wedding 
day. 

The  patroon  was  proud  of  his  display,  and  took 


300   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

a  roundabout  way  to  reach  the  fort.  When  we 
drew  near,  all  the  neighborhood  was  in  confusion. 
A  great  crowd  blocked  the  street  from  one  side  to 
another.  Everyone's  attention  was  fixed  on  the 
stone  gateway  and  the  massive  gates  that  barred  it. 
When  I  saw  that  the  gates  were  closed,  I  wondered 
whether  there  had  been  an  alarm.  My  thought  was 
soon  answered.  A  bugle  from  within  the  walls  rang 
out  clear  on  the  frosty  air.  The  notes,  beautiful  as 
they  were,  fell  on  my  ears  with  a  chill  foreboding 
sound.  The  murmur  of  the  people  softened.  The 
great  iron-bound  gates  swung  back.  There  was 
the  throbbing  sound  of  a  drum  and  the  dull  tramp 
of  soldiers  marching.  Three  of  the  four  garrison 
companies  passed  out  in  a  long  narrow  line,  down 
to  the  river,  and  embarked  to  Albany.  This  is  what 
Pierre  had  foretold.  The  soldiers  were  gone.  The 
city  was  now  almost  defenseless.  But  its  only  other 
danger,  the  patroon,  had  espoused  its  cause.  No 
wonder  the  people  shouted:  "God  save  the  good 
patroon,  the  defender  of  the  city." 

When  the  Earl's  troops  were  gone,  followed  by 
many  of  the  spectators,  I  glanced  through  the  gate 
into  the  courtyard  of  the  fort.  The  Earl  of  Bella- 
mont,  surrounded  by  most  of  the  members  of  his 
council,  were  still  seated  upon  their  horses  in  front 
of  the  executive  mansion.  Patroon  Van  Volken- 
berg  gave  orders  for  his  troops  to  remain  drawn  up 
in  the  street;  then  he  rode  into  the  paved  courtyard 
of  the  fort,  accompanied  by  Louis  and  myself.   After 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  AND  THE  EARL   301 

he  had  saluted  the  governor  and  his  associates,  the 
patroon  cleared  his  throat  a  Httle  and  began  to 
speak. 

"Your  Excellency,"  he  said,  "I  come  to  beg  no 
favors,  to  make  no  excuses.  I  have  been  guilty  of 
many  acts  which  I  performed  with  my  eyes  wide 
open,  knowing  what  the  consequences  would  be, 
and  I  have  likewise  suffered  the  consequences  as  I 
should.  But  that  is  not  what  I  came  to  talk  about. 
By  the  grace  of  God,  I  have  suffered  a  change  of 
heart.  If  it  is  not  too  late  I  should  like  to  make 
amends  for  my  past  acts.  Vincent,  present  this 
paper  to  the  Earl." 

I  handed  the  document  which  he  had  withdrawn 
from  his  pocket  to  the  Earl.  Bellamont's  face  took 
on  an  expression  of  surprise  as  he  read.  Suddenly 
he  exclaimed : 

"Why,  this  is  the  title  to  your  estate  of  Hanging 
Rock." 

''Yes,  it  is  that,"  answered  the  patroon.  "I  know 
that  it  is  your  desire  to  recall  the  lavish  grants  of 
your  predecessor;  and  I  have  come  to  see,  in  spite 
of  my  former  acts,  that  they  are  a  danger  to  the 
safety  of  the  province.  Therefore  I  have  brought 
myself  to  the  point  of  resigning  my  claim  into  your 
hands,  hoping  thereby  to  make  some  amends  for 
what  I  have  done  in  the  past  times  to  oppose  the 
purpose  of  your  administration.  I  have  brought 
my  household  with  me,  armed  and  at  your  service, 
and  I  pray  that  you  will  receive  them  into  the  fort. 


302        PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

subject  them  to  your  own  officers,  and  let  me  repair 
to  my  home  until  you  have  disposed  of  my  title  as 
the  welfare  of  the  province  prompts  you." 

Van  Volkenberg  had  spoken  with  calmness  and 
respect;  but  for  the  moment  I  was  in  doubt  whether 
the  governor  with  his  strong  prejudices  would  trust 
him.  He  did  not  know,  of  course,  as  I  did,  what 
had  prompted  the  patroon  to  this  act  of  humility 
and  grace.  However,  after  a  few  minutes'  hesita- 
tion, the  Earl  thanked  him  cordially.  He  consulted 
with  his  advisers  and  they  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  would  be  best  to  accept  the  ofTer  of  the 
patroon.  The  fact  that  he  himself  would  return  to 
his  manor-house  for  the  time  being  and  leave  the 
command  of  the  troops  wholly  to  the  governor  won 
them  over.  They  all  shook  hands  with  him,  and 
Bellamont  thanked  him  again  for  the  way  in  which 
he  had  come  to  the  rescue  of  the  city. 

"We  shall  let  bygones  be  bygones,"  he  said.  "We 
have  had  our  quarrel.  To-morrow  there  will  be  a 
meeting  of  my  council  at  the  usual  hour,  at  which 
I  hope  you  will  be  present." 

For  just  a  moment  there  seemed  likely  to  be  an 
interruption  in  store  for  us.  Louis,  who  had  not 
shared  my  conversation  with  the  Earl,  seemed 
amazed.  His  eyes  stood  out  like  knobs.  His  great 
misshapen  mouth  opened.  He  threw  back  his  head 
with  that  weird  contortion  of  his  face  that  preceded 
his  peculiar,  ghastly  laugh.  I  caught  in  my  reins 
lest  my  horse  should  startle  at  the  sound.     But 


VAN  VOLKENBERG  AND  THE  EARL  303 

Louis  subsided  slowly  without  a  laugh  and  took  on 
again  that  solemn  look  of  acquiescence. 

"A  mere  freak  of  his,"  said  the  patroon  in  ex- 
planation. "A  curiosity  of  mine,  but  he  means  no 
harm." 

With  that  they  parted  harmoniously  and  we 
three,  the  patroon,  Louis  and  I,  rode  back  to  the 
manor-house.  We  who  had  gone  into  town  in  such 
pomp  returned  alone  without  a  man  to  bear  us  com- 
pany. And  a  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  best  troops 
of  the  province  were  in  the  fort,  ready  to  guard  it 
against  attack. 

Later  that  evening,  Louis  Van  Ramm  was  no- 
where to  be  found.  The  patroon  seemed  alarmed 
at  his  henchman's  absence. 

"He  has  never  left  me  without  permission  before, 
St.  Vincent.    Did  he  say  anything  to  you?" 

He  had  said  nothing  to  me.  No  one  else  had  any 
notion  of  the  dwarf's  whereabouts.  W^e  went  out 
upon  the  terrace  in  the  vague  hope  of  seeing  or 
hearing  something  of  him.  Suddenly  the  distinct 
sound  of  clattering  horse  hoofs  fell  upon  the  night. 
The  wind  blew  in  gusts  and,  in  a  moment,  the  sound 
had  vanished.  But  the  wind  came  again  in  a  mo- 
ment and  the  hoof  beats  with  it,  louder  than  before. 
And  then,  fast  and  clear,  the  triple  ring  of  a  horse 
at  full  gallop  along  the  frozen  highway  to  the  north. 

"Someone  is  abroad  to-night,"  said  the  patroon. 

"Yes,  a  horseman,"  I  replied. 

We  both  spoke  calmly.    An  observer  might  have 


304        PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

wondered  why  we  had  not  cried  out,  for  the  sound 
came  suddenly  like  one  speaking  in  the  dark.  For 
my  part,  I  suspected  Louis,  though  how  or  what  I 
did  not  know.  The  patroon  may  have  thought 
likewise,  for  he  asked : 

"Who  is  that,  do  you  suppose?" 

"A  horseman,"  I  replied  again. 

There  was  no  other  answer  to  be  had.  The  rider 
passed  the  park  without  stopping  or  slackening  his 
speed,  which  we  could  now  tell  was  breakneck  and 
wild  to  the  extreme.  Where  he  was  going  and  for 
what  purpose  we  could  not  tell.  Gradually  the 
sound  died  away  and  left  us  gaping  at  the  blank 
dark.  After  that  we  went  back  into  the  house,  the 
patroon  muttering  curses  upon  the  dwarf  for  his 
absence. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

CAPTAIN  WILLIAM   KIDD 

Though  we  sat  together  for  some  time  after  that, 
Httle  enough  passed  between  us.  I  had  my  own 
thoughts  and  so  had  the  patroon.  Whatever  was 
in  his  mind  I  could  not  tell,  but  I  thought  that  it 
was  Louis.  For  if  there  was  the  least  sound  outside 
he  would  start  up  expectantly;  and  when,  as  al- 
ways happened,  Louis  did  not  appear,  his  face 
would  grow  black,  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth 
would  drop  down,  as  they  did  in  his  worst  moments. 
I  hardly  wonder,  considering  what  followed  later, 
that  he  was  ill  at  ease.  In  all  likeHhood,  he  sus- 
pected the  real  cause  of  Louis's  absence  and  knew 
much  better  than  I  did  in  what  danger  it  would 
involve  himself. 

However,  the  whole  evening  was  not  to  be  given 
up  to  hopeless  grumbling  after  the  lost  henchman. 
I  had  first  come  to  New  York  in  August,  as  you  will 
remember,  and  it  was  now  late  in  November.  The 
roads  were  still  hard,  witness  the  sharp  clattering 
ring  of  the  horseman  who  had  ridden  by  shortly 
before  on  the  frozen  ground;  but  at  any  day  now 
we  might  expect  the  bad  weather  to  set  in  and  diffi- 
cult roads  to  follow. 

We  had  heard  the  horseman  ride  by  about  nine 
o'clock.     For  two  hours  the  patroon  fussed  and 

305 


306  PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

fumed  and  visited  the  dock  in  the  hall  so  often  that 
it  scarce  seemed  to  leave  time  for  him  to  do  any- 
thing else.  I  wondered  why  he  should  be  so 
anxious  about  the  clock,  when  he  explained  the 
motive  all  of  a  sudden. 

"Get  on  your  cloak.  It  is  time  for  us  to  go.  This 
is  the  errand  I  spoke  to  you  about  this  morning." 

I  asked  no  questions — no  one  ever  did  of  the 
patroon,  especially  when  he  was  in  a  bad  humor. 
No  one  ever  dared  to  approach  him  on  a  forbidden 
subject,  and  I  knew  enough  to  know  my  place  if  I 
knew  nothing  else.  So  I  wrapped  myself  up  warm 
and  the  two  of  us  set  out  on  foot.  We  followed  the 
narrow  path  that  led  down  to  the  river.  It  was 
steep  walking  part  of  the  way,  but  we  managed  to 
stumble  to  the  end  of  it  in  safety.  At  the  landing 
we  found  the  patroon's  barge  waiting  for  us.  Eight 
negro  slaves  were  at  the  oars  and  an  overseer  held 
the  tiller. 

"Have  you  seen  the  signal?"  asked  Van  Volken- 
berg. 

"Yes,  about  ten  minutes  ago  for  the  first  time, 
and  twice  since.    He  seems  to  be  in  a  hurry." 

"Very  well.  Let  him  know  that  we  are  coming. 
Get  in,  St.  Vincent." 

As  soon  as  we  were  seated,  word  was  given  to 
the  slaves,  and  the  barge  shot  out  into  the  current, 
turning  southward  towards  the  town. 

"I  do  not  like  this  disappearance  of  Louis,"  said 
the  patroon  in  a  low  voice  to  me.    "I  have  expected 


CAPTAIN  WILLIAM  KIDD  307 

him  to  turn  against  me  for  a  long  time,  but  I  was 
hardly  prepared  for  it  just  at  this  moment.  If  he 
comes  back  he  shall  feel  the  lash  on  his  bare  back 
for  the  fright  he  has  given  me." 

"Poor  Louis;  I  hope  we  shall  not  find  him  now." 

"No,  this  meeting  is  with  someone  else.  You'll 
know  who  shortly." 

Soon  after  this  the  slaves  left  off  rowing  and  we 
drifted  with  the  tide.  We  had  come  to  a  place  just 
opposite  the  fields  no'*th  of  the  city  wall. 

"Show  the  light,"  said  the  patroon. 

A  dark  lantern  held  by  the  steersman  was  made 
to  flash  three  times;  it  was  answered  close  at  hand. 
Five  minutes  later  a  boat  glided  up  out  of  the  dark- 
ness, from  which  a  stranger  stepped  aboard  us. 
Then  we  set  out  for  home. 

The  stranger,  so  far  as  I  could  see  in  the  dim 
light,  was  a  strong-built  man,  not  over  large  in 
stature.  He  wore  a  seaman's  great  coat  and  car- 
ried his  cutlas  in  his  hand.  He  swore  fearfully  in 
his  speech  and  the  patroon  was  constantly  warning 
him  to  lower  his  gruff  voice. 

"I  tell  you,  William,"  he  said  after  their  conver- 
sation had  gone  on  for  some  time,  "it  will  never 
do.  I  have  had  a  change  of  heart.  It  will  never  do. 
I  have  surely  suffered  a  change  of  heart." 

"Well,"  returned  the  stranger  with  a  large  ac- 
companiment of  oaths,  "if  that's  the  fact,  what's 
the  use  o'  lugging  Willie  Kidd  all  the  way  to  Hang- 
ing Rock?" 


308    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

*Tut,  tut,  man,  we  shall  have  a  glass  of  old  Ma- 
deira and  talk  of  bygone  days." 

"Ah,"  muttered  Kidd,  smacking  his  lips  in  antici- 
pation, "that  is  another  matter." 

So  this  was  Captain  William  Kidd,  merchant,  of 
New  York.  This  was  the  man  to  whom  had  been 
entrusted  the  King's  ship  that  was  to  prey  upon  the 
buccaneers  and  to  put  the  booty  into  the  pocket  of 
the  sovereign  and  his  co-adventurers.  This  was 
the  man  about  whom  the  patroon  had  got  himself 
into  disgrace  with  the  governor's  council.  I  tried 
to  make  out  the  expression  on  Van  Volkenberg's 
face,  but  the  night  was  too  dark  for  that.  I  could 
only  fancy  how  this  appointment  had  been  brought 
about.  Then  I  remembered  the  seaman  we  had 
met  in  the  city  the  day  before,  and  the  patroon's 
parting  injunction :  "At  midnight  on  the  river."  He 
must  have  been  Captain  Kidd — at  least  his  name 
was  William,  for  I  had  heard  my  master  call  him  so. 
They  went  on  talking  in  low  voices,  although  not 
so  low  but  that  I  could  catch  the  drift  of  their  talk. 

I  soon  learned  that  the  troops  had  been  dis- 
patched to  Albany  mainly  upon  Kidd's  representa- 
tion. He  had  urged  Bellamont  to  protect  the 
colony  at  all  hazards  against  an  invasion  from  the 
north;  and  such  was  the  faith  of  Bellamont  and 
Livingstone  in  the  advice  of  the  commander  of  the 
Adventure  that  he  tipped  the  scale  of  a  hesitating 
executive,  and  the  troops  were  sent. 

I  also  learned  that,  whereas  Bellamont  had  taken 


CAPTAIN  WILLIAM  KIDD  309 

the  advice  of  Kidd,  Kidd  had  received  his  cue  from 
Van  Volkenberg,  So  it  was  the  patroon  after  all 
who  had  emptied  the  fort  of  its  regular  guard.  But 
I  had  no  time  then  to  think  of  what  motive  he  had 
for  doing  so,  for  we  were  fast  nearing  the  landing 
at  Hanging  Rock.  Several  times  during  this  con- 
versation Van  Volkenberg  had  spoken  again  of  his 
change  of  heart.  Often  a  low  chuckle  escaped  him 
on  the  occasion  of  such  a  reference.  His  spirits 
were  evidently  rising,  and,  for  the  present,  all 
thoughts  of  Louis  and  his  absence  must  have  been 
forgotten. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  manor-house,  the 
patroon  led  his  guest  to  the  door  of  the  dining 
room. 

"St.  Vincent,"  he  said,  "stand  here  on  guard. 
No  one  is  to  come  in  or  to  interrupt  us  in  any  way 
till  we  come  out  again." 

With  that  he  opened  the  door  and  motioned  Cap- 
tain Kidd  to  enter.  I  could  only  see  a  part  of  the 
room  from  where  I  stood.  What  mainly  occupied 
the  vista  disclosed  by  the  open  door  was  the  great 
mahogany  sideboard,  which  stood  against  the  wall 
at  the  farther  end  of  the  room.  On  the  upper  part 
of  it  were  plenty  of  glass  vessels  and  blue  china 
pieces  from  Delft  and  heavy  articles  of  silver  plate; 
the  lower  part  was  a  huge  cupboard  used  to  store 
less  showy  articles  of  furniture.  I  used  to  wonder 
at  the  bigness  of  this  enclosure  and  thought  what 
a  place  it  would  be  to  play  hide  and  seek  in  if  there 


310    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

were  only  children  about  the  house.  Then  the  door 
closed  and  I  saw  no  more  of  the  sideboard  or  of 
the  visitor  for  a  while.  But  I  heard  a  laugh;  it  was 
loud  and  uproarious,  and  I  thought  he  would  never 
have  done.  But  he  subsided  at  last;  then  I  could 
hear  the  muffle  of  low  voices,  but  never  a  word 
reached  my  ears  that  I  could  understand. 

I  walked  up  and  down  the  hall  for  a  long  time. 
The  minutes  merged  into  an  hour  and  then  two 
hours.  I  grew  tired  with  nothing  to  occupy  my 
mind  but  the  continual  mumble  of  low  voices.  I 
fell  to  wondering  where  Louis  was  and  what  he  was 
up  to.  More  than  once  I  had  suspected  the 
patroon's  motive  in  garrisoning  the  fort  with  his 
own  men.  I  was  so  sure  that  his  action  was  a  mere 
trick,  though  I  was  taken  in  by  it  at  the  time,  that 
I  intended  to  slip  from  my  window  that  very  night 
and  go  to  the  Earl  with  a  warning.  Then  it  flashed 
upon  me  that  perhaps  Louis  had  already  done  this. 
Could  the  horseman  we  had  heard  be  a  messenger 
to  recall  the  troops  that  had  been  dispatched  to 
Albany?  The  idea  seemed  possible.  The  more  I 
thought  of  it  the  more  certain  I  became.  I  can 
remember  to  this  day  the  thrill  of  satisfaction  that  I 
felt  when  I  understood  that  the  patroon  was  within 
one  of  checkmating  himself.  My  imagination  ran 
riot  there  in  the  silence  before  the  door  I  was  guard- 
ing. I  began  to  fancy  that  the  patroon  meant  to 
get  possession  of  the  city.  I  had  noticed  that  day 
that  his  seven  ships  were  so  drawn  up  in  the  harbor 


CAPTAIN  WILLIAM  KIDD  311 

as  to  command  the  whole  front  of  the  city.  But 
in  spite  of  everything  I  was  satisfied  with  the  situ- 
ation. If  the  Earl  had  received  warning,  the 
patroon,  after  all,  might  succeed  only  in  trapping 
himself. 

Then  I  felt  a  pang  at  heart — he  was  Miriam's 
father.  I  could  no  longer  hide  from  myself  the  fact 
that  I  was  in  love  with  the  patroon's  daughter. 
From  the  moment  when  I  first  felt  the  charm  of  her 
attractiveness,  I  had  fought  hard  against  it.  She 
was  a  Catholic  and,  worse  than  that,  she  was  his 
daughter.  But  she  had  been  good  to  Ruth.  I  re- 
called how  earnestly  my  sister  had  tried  to  break 
down  my  unreasoning  hatred  of  the  Catholics.  I 
thought,  too,  of  Miriam's  kindness  to  old  Meg;  and 
of  her  love  and  belief  in  her  father;  and  of  her  sim- 
ple purity  of  faith.  These  were  qualities  I  had  not 
looked  for  in  the  Roman  church.  Then  came  that 
sweet  picture  of  her  and  Ruth  kneeling  side  by  side 
in  the  little  oratory,  each  praying  in  her  own  faith. 

This  very  evening  I  had  begged  Miriam  for  a 
keepsake.  She  had  been  with  us  during  a  part  of 
the  time  when  her  father  was  so  upset  by  Louis's 
absence.  She  had  tried  to  coax  him  into  a  better 
humor,  but  he  told  her  sharply  to  leave  the  room 
and  go  to  bed.  I  followed  her  into  the  hall  and 
when,  a  moment  later,  I  picked  up  a  handkerchief 
which  she  had  dropped  on  the  floor,  I  begged  her 
to  let  me  keep  it.    It  was  a  mere  bit  of  sentiment  on 


312        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

my  part,  I  confess,  but  it  would  have  been  a  treas- 
ure to  me  and  I  wanted  it  with  all  my  heart. 

But  Miriam  thought  differently.  She  protested 
against  the  gift  in  such  a  vigorous  manner  that  I 
could  think  nothing  less  than  that  she  would  not 
have  me  wear  a  favor  of  hers.  This  dashed  my 
spirits  and  she  saw  accordingly  how  seriously  I 
took  the  matter. 

"Pooh,  you  are  foolish,"  she  cried,  laughing. 
"This  is  why  I  won't  let  you  have  it." 

She  shook  out  the  handkerchief  and  thrust  her 
finger  through  a  tiny  hole  in  one  corner.  In  vain 
I  told  her  it  was  all  the  better  for  that.  She  only 
brushed  me  lightly  in  the  face  with  it  and  ran  up 
stairs  laughing. 

All  this  and  many  other  things  were  in  my  head 
as  I  walked  back  and  forth  like  a  sentinel  before 
the  door  of  the  dining  room.  Soon  the  sound  of 
other  voices  besides  those  of  my  master  and  Cap- 
tain Kidd  became  audible.  They  were  above  stairs 
and  seemed  to  come  from  the  upper  landing.  One 
I  recognized  immediately  as  Annetje's.  The  other 
person  could  be  none  but  her  mistress;  though  I 
heard  but  little  that  she  said,  who  else  would  be 
with  Annetje  at  this  hour  of  the  night? 

There  was  a  lamp  burning  in  the  hall  whose  light 
fell  dimly  upon  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  but  all  above 
the  fifth  or  sixth  step  was  as  dark  as  the  pit. 

"Look  on  the  bottom  step,  Monsieur  St.  Yin- 
cent,"  I  heard  Annetje  whisper. 


CAPTAIN  WILLIAM  KIDD  313 

I  glanced  at  the  door  of  the  dining  room  and  then 
walked  sideways  towards  the  stairs,  so  that  I  could 
keep  my  eyes  cast  backward  and  attend  to  my  duty 
at  the  same  time.  On  the  bottom  step  lay  a  patch 
of  white  which  I  caught  up  eagerly,  for  it  was  the 
very  handkerchief  I  wanted,  hole,  wrinkles  and  all. 

"It  is  for  you,"  said  Annetje  from  the  dark  above. 
"She  sends  it  with  her — " 

A  hand  must  have  been  clapped  over  her  mouth, 
she  stopped  so  suddenly.  I  hardly  dared  to  hope 
for  that  last  word.  No  matter;  I  had  the  handker- 
chief safe,  at  least.  I  called  up  my  thanks,  though 
I  could  not  see  either  of  them  and  was  soon  back 
at  my  post. 

When  Van  Volkenberg  and  Kidd  came  out,  we 
retraced  the  journey  of  two  hours  previous,  drop- 
ping down  river  and  transferring  Kidd  to  his  own 
boat.  And  with  this  one  appearance  he  vanishes 
from  these  pages. 

During  those  two  hours  when  they  were  closeted 
in  the  dining  room,  he  and  the  patroon  hatched  a 
plan  which  indirectly  affected  us  mightily,  but 
whose  ultimate  success  transpired  too  late  to  in- 
fluence the  fortunes  of  the  patroon. 

As  everyone  knows.  Captain  Kidd  sailed  from 
New  York  an  honorable  merchant  and  w^ell  trusted 
by  the  government.  When  he  was  next  heard  of 
he  was  a  jolly  pirate  on  the  high  seas,  flying  the 
black  flag.  But  he  was  only  an  amateur  buccaneer 
after  all,  and  found  pirating  less  to  his  mind  than 


314        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

he  had  hoped  for.  So  he  sat  in  his  cabin  till  he  had 
fashioned  a  whole  book  full  of  lies  to  explain  how 
he  had  been  made  the  victim  of  his  crew  and  how  he 
had  meant  to  deal  honestly  with  the  King's  com- 
mission. Thus  armed  he  sailed  boldly  into  Boston 
harbor,  where  he  was  promptly  arrested  to  answer 
for  his  crimes. 

For  a  time  it  looked  as  if  his  treachery  would 
stain  the  honor  of  his  patron.  But  at  length  Bella- 
mont  was  cleared  beyond  a  doubt  of  all  complicity, 
and  Kidd  was  sentenced  to  hang  by  the  neck  till 
he  was  dead. 

But  all  this  happened  afterwards  and  is  beyond 
the  limits  of  this  story,  Kidd  played  a  losing  game, 
in  which  he  staked  his  life  and  reputation.  What 
right  have  we  to  heap  calumny  upon  his  memory? 
Let  him  wend  his  own  wicked  way  alone,  while  we 
return  to  the  fortunes  of  the  Red  Band. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE   EFFECT   OF   KIDD'S  VISIT 

During  the  next  forenoon  I  had  no  opportunity 
to  go  to  Yorke.  Nor  did  I  feel  the  duty  quite  so 
necessary  now  that  I  thought  Louis  had  been  be- 
forehand in  the  matter  of  warning  the  governor. 
For  a  long  time  that  morning  the  patroon  and  I 
were  closeted  together.  He  had  begun  to  suspect 
the  dwarf  himself  and  the  suspicion  irritated  him 
beyond  measure.  At  last  he  suggested  plainly  that 
Louis  must  be  aware  of  his  motive  in  garrisoning 
the  fort. 

"But,"  said  I,  sure  at  last  that  my  own  suspicions 
were  correct,  "why  should  a  knowledge  of  your 
motives  take  him  to  Yorke?" 

The  patroon  flushed  with  anger  when  he  dis- 
covered how  carelessly  he  had  disclosed  his  secret. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  moment's  hesitation  in  his 
mind  as  to  what  to  do,  but  he  saw  plainly  that  I 
now  understood  the  whole  situation  clearly.  Pa- 
troon Van  Volkenberg  was  a  man  who  always  acted 
with  decision  and  at  once.  He  saw  that  there  was 
no  use  to  brazen  it  out,  and  so  he  made  a  clean 
avowal. 

"I  took  you  for  a  man  of  sense,  but  I  see  that  you 
are  a  fool." 

I  had  had  too  long  a  time  of  training  in  keeping 

315 


316        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

cool  under  adverse  circumstances  to  mind  a  little 
fling  like  this. 

"Your  words  to  me  yesterday  on  the  way,"  I  said. 

He  snapped  his  fingers.  "Mere  practice.  I 
■wanted  someone  to  practice  on,  otherwise  I  should 
have  laughed  in  Bellamont's  face." 

This  taunt  was  a  home  thrust,  the  more  so  since 
I  had  been  completely  taken  in  at  the  time. 

"Well,"  said  I,  with  a  hint  of  sarcasm  in  my 
voice,  in  spite  of  my  desire  not  to  rouse  him  yet. 
"If  Louis  knows  this  I  should  say  that  you — " 

"What  of  me?" 

"That  you  are  in  a  bad  way." 

"True,"  he  answered,  totally  unmoved.  "I  have 
been  in  a  bad  way  for  a  long  time;  but  I  have  the 
Earl  on  the  hip  now." 

"He  has  the  deed  to  your  estate." 

"I  shall  get  it  back.  I  gave  him  that  to  win  his 
confidence.  I  never  thought  he  would  swallow 
such  an  open  bait.  I  took  so  many  men  with  me 
because  I  thought  he  would  order  my  arrest.  If  I 
had  known  what  a  gull  he  would  prove  I  should 
have  got  inside  the  fort  with  half  the  number.  But 
the  best  is  yet  to  come.  Be  ready  to-night  to  go 
with  me  to  Webber's  tavern.  I  expect  great  news, 
glorious  news;  news  that  will  shake  Yorke  to  its 
foundation.  In  the  meantime  I  must  look  for 
Louis." 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened  without  a 
warning  knock    and    Louis    Van  Ramm  stepped 


THE  EFFECT  OF  KIDD'S  VISIT        31T 

across  the  threshold.  For  a  moment  the  master  and 
servant  remained  where  they  were  without  moving. 
The  patroon  sat  in  his  great  leather  chair.  In  front 
of  him  was  a  table  strewn  with  papers.  A  decanter 
of  wine  with  a  tray  of  glasses  stood  in  the  center, 
and  lying  close  at  hand,  his  long,  sharp  pointed 
sword.  Within  a  yard  of  the  door,  glowering 
across  the  intervening  table,  was  the  sullen  figure 
of  the  white-haired  dwarf. 

"Well,"  said  the  patroon  viciously  after  two  min- 
utes of  this  strained  silence. 

"Well,"  echoed  the  dwarf. 

"What  do  you  come  here  for?" 

"Money." 

"State  your  errand,"  he  cried,  starting  up  in 
anger. 

"That  is  easily  done,"  answered  the  dwarf,  dog- 
gedly, at  the  same  time  taking  a  cautious  step  or 
two  forward.  "Do  not  get  impetuous,"  he  con- 
tinued with  a  sneer.  "I  have  written  out  all  that  I 
know  and  have  left  the  writing  with  my  friends.  I 
have  come  to  ask  what  you  will  give  me  not  to  have 
the  seals  broken." 

If  Louis  had  expected  to  find  his  master  a  prey  to 
one  of  his  usual  fits  of  rage,  he  was  disappointed. 
In  a  moment  the  patroon  had  overcome  his  first 
outbreak  and  smiled,  leaning  back  upon  the  arm  of 
his  chair;  then  he  dropped  his  hand  cautiously  on 
the  table  near  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

"Now  hearken,  Kilian  Van  Volkenberg,"  Louis 


318    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

began  in  an  insolent  tone.  "I  know  why  the  Red 
Band  is  in  the  fort,  and  I  know  why  William  Kidd 
came  here  last  night." 

The  patroon  had  shown  no  emotion  at  the  men- 
tion of  the  first  of  these  facts,  but  the  second  seemed 
to  startle  him. 

"So  you  were  somewhere  near  about  after  all, 
were  you?" 

"I  was  in  the  bottom  of  the  sideboard  last  night, 
and  heard  you  discuss  all  your  plans." 

"You  lie,"  said  the  patroon,  yet  he  was  calm 
withal.  I  could  see  the  shadow  of  fear  in  his  face, 
but  he  gave  no  sign  of  it  by  word  or  act.  "Louis 
Van  Ramm,  you  lie  in  your  throat." 

"Perhaps,  but  I  have  written  out  the  full  account 
of  all  I  heard,  and  my  friends  will  break  the  seals 
at  noon  unless — " 

"Unless  what?"  for  Louis  paused. 

"Unless  you  pay  me  a  thousand  pounds." 

"I  could  pay  that,  you  fool,  but  I  know  you  lie." 
The  master's  voice  was  wavering  and  I  knew  he 
believed  what  he  denied  with  so  much  confidence. 
"This  tale  does  not  take  me  in.  It  is  impossible. 
You  could  not  have  overheard,  and  if  you  did  there 
is  nothing  I  would  not  be  willing  to  have  pub- 
lished." 

The  dwarf  looked  at  him  in  contempt.  For  a 
moment  I  doubted  whether  he  really  had  any  proof. 
It  might  all  be  a  skilful  lie  to  blackmail  the  patroon. 
But  not  so !    Louis  raised  his  finger  slowly,  point- 


THE  EFFECT  OF  KIDD'S  VISIT        319 

ing-  at  his  master.  His  mouth  opened,  but  he  waited 
maliciously  before  he  spoke,  as  if  he  knew  well  the 
fatal  result  of  his  next  word.  Then  he  snapped  out 
suddenly,  "Jacques." 

The  efifect  was  instantaneous.  With  a  sharp  cry 
of  rage  the  patroon  caught  up  his  sword.  He 
lunged  forward  before  either  of  us  had  a  moment 
to  think  what  he  was  doing,  and  passed  the  sharp 
blade  clean  through  the  body  of  the  dwarf.  Louis 
toppled  forward  across  the  table  without  uttering  a 
sound.  The  glasses  shattered  with  a  crash,  and  the 
wine  from  the  decanter  trickled  out  and  mingled 
with  the  blood  which  I  can  hear  to  this  day,  as 
it  rattled  with  a  sharp  sound  on  the  papers  which 
were  everywhere  about.  The  patroon  stood  mop- 
ping the  sweat  from  his  brow  and  looking  down  on 
the  body  of  his  henchman. 

''Come  with  me,  Vincent,  come  with  me.  If  what 
this  fellow  said  is  true,  I  am  in  a  trap  indeed.  Per- 
haps the  papers  are  in  his  room,  perhaps  he  did  not 
write  them,  but  let  us  see." 

We  went  to  Louis's  room  and  ransacked  every 
corner  for  some  sign  of  the  papers.  We  sounded 
the  floor  for  loose  boards.  We  tore  open  the  bed- 
ding. We  let  no  nook  or  cranny  escape  our 
vigilance.    But  nothing  rewarded  our  search. 

"Well,"  muttered  Van  Volkenberg  moodily,  "he 
must  have  told  the  truth.  Someone  else  has  the 
papers  if  they  were  ever  written  at  all.  Who  had 
he  for  friends?"    Then  he  swore  a  fearful  oath,  for 


320        PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

he  had  thought  of  the  Marmadukes.  "If  she  comes 
against  me — "  He  doubled  his  fists,  but  did  not 
finish  the  sentence. 

We  went  back  to  dispose  of  the  body  of  Louis. 
When  this  was  done  the  patroon  prepared  to  sum- 
mon the  remaining  members  of  the  Red  Band.  I 
did  not  know  what  he  wanted  of  his  retainers,  nor 
did  I  care.  I  remembered  what  Louis  had  said  to 
me  about  the  loose  bricks  by  the  oven  and  that  I 
should  look  there  in  case  of  his  death  by  violence. 
I  resolved  to  do  a  little  hunting  on  my  own  account 
and,  sure  enough,  when  I  reached  the  place,  I  found 
two  small  packets,  which  I  hastily  concealed  about 
me  and  retired  to  my  room.  One  of  the  packets 
was  marked  "The  Great  Secret."  The  other  bore 
the  date  of  that  very  day.  I  tore  it  open.  Here  is 
what  I  read: 

"I  heard  the  whole  conversation  between  Van 
Volkenberg  and  Captain  Kidd.  The  latter  has 
come  here  to  recruit  the  crew  which  is  to  take  the 
Adventure  out  to  sea  to  capture  pirate  ships.  Van 
Volkenberg  has  agreed  to  furnish  the  eighty  men 
needed  to  complete  the  crew.  The  agreement  is 
that  as  soon  as  they  are  well  at  sea  these  men  are 
to  mutiny.  Kidd  is  to  give  in  without  resistance. 
Then  they  are  all  to  turn  pirates.  Van  Volkenberg 
is  to  get  a  share  of  the  booty  and  to  start  the  rumor 
that  this  was  Bellamont's  intention  from  the  first. 
There  was  another  plan  disclosed" 

The  account  stopped  abruptly,  without  even  the 


THE  EFFECT  OF  KIDD'S  VISIT        321 

formality  of  a  period.  Louis  may  have  been  inter- 
rupted in  his  writing  and  found  no  chance  to  finish, 
or  he  may  have  thought  better  and  decided  not  to 
tell  all  he  knew.  Of  this  fact,  of  course,  no  one  will 
ever  know,  I  was  about  to  break  the  seal  of  the 
second  packet  and  read  the  Great  Secret,  when  I 
heard  steps  in  the  corridor  on  the  way  to  my  door. 
The  next  moment  there  was  a  knock. 

"Patroon  Van  Volkenberg  wishes  your  presence 
in  the  hall,"  said  the  messenger. 

Five  minutes  later  I  was  at  the  door  of  the  as- 
sembly room  where  the  remainder  of  the  Red  Band 
had  already  gathered  and  seemed  to  be  waiting  for 
my  appearance.  This  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen 
them  together  by  daylight,  and  as  I  glanced  round 
upon  their  faces,  several  questions  that  I  had  often 
asked  myself  were  partly  answered.  The  lower  class 
I  had  seen  everywhere  so  far  in  and  about  Yorke 
were  men  whose  independence  of  spirit  and  ability 
to  think  for  themselves  would  not  have  counte- 
nanced such  blind  obedience  to  a  leader  as  was 
shown  by  these  men  of  the  Red  Band.  But  as  I 
looked  upon  them  now  I  saw  the  reason.  Most  of 
them  were  foreigners,  all  of  them  weather-beaten 
soldiers  or  sailors,  who  may  have  seen  as  many  cam- 
paigns or  more  than  I  had  seen  myself.  As  soldiers 
they  had  had  obedience  drilled  into  their  very 
bones.  But  there  was  another  reason  yet.  Three  of 
the  men  who  stood  nearest  to  me  had  each  but  one 
ear.   Several  more  had  letters  branded  upon  their 


322        PAT  ROOM  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

foreheads  or  upon  their  hands.  I  knew  well  enough 
what  that  meant.  In  a  time  when,  on  the  continent, 
as  well  as  in  the  colonies,  mutilation  was  so  com- 
mon, I  needed  no  one  to  tell  me  how  many  of  the 
members  of  the  Red  Band  had  served  their  time  in 
prison.  Surely  this  was  a  lawless  set  of  men.  They 
spared  no  one,  and  every  man's  hand  was  against 
them.  The  newness  of  the  patroon's  attempt  to 
assume  rights  that  were  no  longer  his  may  have 
been  all  that  accounted  for  his  criminal  deeds  being 
kept  a  secret  thus  far;  but  I  thought,  as  I  looked  at 
these  men,  to  whom  could  they  turn  if  they  once 
deserted  their  present  master? 

Van  Volkenberg  had  drawn  largely  upon  his  fol- 
lowers when  he  garrisoned  the  fort.  All  of  those 
who  were  left  behind  were  now  gathered  in  the  hall 
before  me.  I  had  not  long  to  wait  to  learn  the  pur- 
pose of  the  meeting.  The  patroon  commanded 
silence.  In  a  few  words  he  reminded  his  follow^ers 
of  the  oaths  of  service  they  had  all  taken  to  him. 
Then  he  explained  that  Captain  William  Kidd  was 
about  to  set  out  on  an  expedition  for  the  welfare 
of  the  province. 

"My  men,"  continued  the  patroon,  "a  task  is  ex- 
pected of  you.  I  cannot  now  make  known  to  you 
all  the  particulars  of  your  new  duty.  I  shall  entrust 
my  plans  to  Edward  Baine  and  Harold  Bromm. 
You  know  and  respect  both  of  these  men.  You 
must  obey  them  as  if  I  w^ere  there  myself  to  give 
orders.    Each  man  shall  receive  at  the  outset  twenty 


THE  EFFECT  OF  KIDD'S  VISIT       323 

pounds.  The  money  has  already  been  sent  aboard 
ship.  You  must  follow  yourselves  as  secretly  as 
possible  before  night.  At  midnight  the  anchors 
will  be  lifted  and  by  sunrise  you  will  be  far  from 
shore." 

He  looked  about  him  as  if  to  note  the  temper  of 
his  audience.  There  was  no  dissatisfaction.  Most 
of  the  men  were  already  tired  of  the  quiet  times 
since  the  elections,  and  welcomed  this  chance  of 
action.  No  question  of  its  propriety  seemed"  to 
enter  their  heads.  They  acted  like  machines,  ready 
to  come  and  go  as  their  master  sent  them. 

''Now,"  continued  the  patroon.  "In  accordance 
with  our  general  custom  we  shall  take  the  oath  of 
service  together. 

"Edward  Baine,  stand  forth.  Do  you  solemnly 
swear  to  remain  true  to  the  brotherhood  of  the  Red 
Band,  to  advance  its  interests  with  your  life,  so 
help  you  God?" 

"I  do,  Amen." 

The  oath  was  next  administered  to  Harold 
Bromm.  After  that  a  clause  was  inserted  binding 
the  men  to  obey  the  orders  of  these  two  ringleaders. 
One  after  another  the  members  of  the  band,  bound 
themselves  to  this  new  venture.  At  last  there  were 
but  three  left,  myself  and  two  others.  I  wondered 
whether  the  patroon  intended  to  send  me  along 
with  the  rest  on  this  mutinous  expedition. 

"Dick  Ramsey,  do  you  solemnly  swear — " 

The  oath  was  duly  sworn  to. 


324        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

''Barnard  Lee — " 

He  likewise  assented  to  the  oath. 

All  eyes  turned  upon  me.  The  others  looked 
expectant  as  if  they  too  had  thought  of  the  same 
question  that  I  had  just  put  to  myself.  Perhaps 
even  the  patroon  did  not  know  what  he  would  do 
till  the  moment  came.  He  looked  at  me  as  if  in 
deliberation  with  himself.  There  was  a  long  pause, 
then  I  heard  m}'  name. 

''Henrie  St.  Vincent,  do  you  solemnly  swear  to 
remain  true  to  the  brotherhood  of  the  Red  Band, 
to  advance  its  interest  with  your  life,  to  obey  Ed- 
ward Baine  and  Harold  Bromm  in  all  things  as  they 
may  command,  so  help  you  God?" 

'T  do  not." 

The  silence  of  amazement  followed.  I  could  not 
forbear  to  smile  at  the  look  on  every  face.  Only 
the  patroon  appeared  as  if  he  had  expected  my  an- 
swer.   He  was  angry  rather  than  surprised. 

"Why  not?"  he  cried  petulantly.  "Why  not,  St. 
Vincent?" 

"I  do  not  care  to  leave  Yorke,"  I  answered. 
"This  duty  is  not  within  my  understanding  of  what 
I  promised  when  I  took  service.  If  you  wish  it,  I 
will  withdraw  from  the  Red  Band,  but — " 

"Withdraw !    Such  a  thing  was  never  heard  of." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  discontent  throughout 
^  the  room.  Some  spoke  openly  and  bade  me  re- 
member Ronald  Guy.  Disobedience  had  been  a 
part  of  his  offense. 


THE  EFFECT  OF  KIDD'S  VISIT        325. 

I  was  standing  close  to  the  patroon  and  spoke  to 
him  so  that  no  one  else  could  hear  what  I  said.  "Do 
you  intend  to  treat  me  as  you  treated  your — "  I 
was  on  the  point  of  saying  "your  son,"  but  he  cut 
me  short. 

"No,  no,  if  you  don't  want  to  go  you  need  not. 
No  one  shall  go  against  his  will.  Never  mind,  my 
men;  you  will  lose  a  good  blade,  but  I  shall  gain 
one.  I  really  need  him  here  after  all.  It  cost  me  an 
effort  to  make  up  my  mind  to  let  him  go." 

The  patroon  whispered  to  someone  next  him  and 
after  that  two  or  three  men  left  the  hall.  We  were 
detained  but  a  few  moments  longer.  Then  the 
men  began  to  say  good-by  to  their  master.  Only 
about  one  in  ten  of  them  lived  on  the  estate.  Some 
of  these  came  to  take  his  hand  and  even  wept  at 
parting.  "You  have  been  a  good  master.  I'll  never 
forget  when  the  old  woman  was  sick,"  said  one. 
And  another,  "I'll  do  my  best  for  you.  I've  not 
forgot  when  my  little  boy  died."  Truly  this  master 
was  good  to  his  own,  save  only  when  his  malady 
was  upon  him. 

I  was  much  touched  by  what  I  had  just  wit- 
nessed. From  the  assembly  room  I  went  to  my 
own.  I  was  anxious  to  read  the  secret  contained 
in  the  second  packet  which  Louis  had  hidden  in 
the  oven.  But  I  was  to  be  interrupted  once  again. 
I  had  hardly  closed  the  door  behind  me  when  I 
discovered  that  I  was  not  alone  in  the  room.  A  tall 
figure,  completely  robed  in  a  black  mantle,  stood 


326    PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

in  one  corner.  When  I  closed  the  door  she  stepped 
forward. 

"Mistress  Van  Volkenberg,"  I  exclaimed,  "what 
has  brought  you  here?" 

It  took  me  several  minutes  to  recover  my  self- 
possession.  Miriam  meantime  dropped  her  cloak 
and  stood  blushing  before  me.  Her  voice  trembled 
with  confusion  and  she  could  hardly  speak. 

"Oh,  what  will  you  think  of  me?"  she  broke  out 
after  one  or  two  attempts  to  speak.  "But  I  could 
not  help  it.  Listen  to  me  and  let  me  go.  What 
have  you  done?  My  father  has  given  orders  to 
have  you  watched.  In  a  few  minutes  you  will  not 
be  able  to  get  away;  you  must  go  at  once." 

When  she  bade  me  go  away  and  leave  her  there 
alone,  I  recalled  a  former  occasion  when  I  had  re- 
solved to  protect  this  girl  if  need  be  against  her 
father. 

"Shall  I  leave  you  here?"  I  asked. 

"Me?  What  have  I  to  do  with  it?  Go,  go;  do 
not  stay;  you  must,  you  must."  She  laid  hold  of 
my  arm  and  tried  to  push  me  towards  the  door. 

"Why  do  you  want  me  to  go?" 

She  became  silent  and  the  bright  color  came  into 
her  cheeks. 

"You  must  go.    I  want  you  to  save  yourself." 

"I  cannot  go,"  I  answered. 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  love  you." 


THE  EFFECT  OF  KIDD'S  VISIT        327 

She  stepped  backward  as  if  frightened  at  my  sim- 
ple words. 

"Mistress  Van  Volkenberg,"  I  continued,  "I  am 
a  plain  woer.  I  do  not  know  how  to  tell  you  what 
I  feel.  My  heart  tells  me  that  I  love  you,  but  how 
shall  I  make  you  know  it?  Bid  me  to  do  some- 
thing. Prove  my  love.  Do  you  care  nothing  for 
how  I  feel?" 

She  came  a  step  closer.    "I  am  a  Catholic." 

"Does  not  that  prove  my  love?  You  know  what 
I  have  had  to  suffer  from  your  church." 

"Yes,  you  have  told  me  a  little,"  she  answered. 
"But—" 

I  would  have  no  buts.  I  caught  both  her  hands 
in  mine  and  gazed  into  her  eyes  wondering  what 
she  would  say  if  she  knew  who  I  really  was.  For 
a  moment  she  held  away  from  me.  Then  I  felt  her 
sway  gently  forward. 

"Do  you  love  me,  Miriam?" 

"Yes." 

For  a  moment  I  held  her  in  my  arms.  Her  face 
lay  close  upon  my  shoulder.  I  could  feel  her  heart 
beating  quickly,  and  there  was  a  sweet  smell  about 
her  hair  like  fresh  flowers.  Then  she  whispered 
softly : 

"Call  me  Miriam  again." 

"My  sweet  Miriam." 

"Ah,  Henrie — why  do  you  start?" 

She  lifted  her  face  to  mine.  I  kissed  her  forehead 
before  I  answered. 


328    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"I  started  because  you  did  not  call  me  by  my 
name.    My  name  is  Michael  Le  Bourse." 

She  looked  at  me  with  growing  wonder  in  her 
eyes.  "Michael  Le  Bourse?  Ruth's  brother?  He 
is  dead." 

"No,  he  is  not  dead.  You  did  not  see  his  body 
at  Marmaduke's.  You  were  deceived.  He  is  alive 
and  well,  and  I  am  he." 

As  she  gazed  confusedly  at  me  the  wonder  faded 
from  her  face.  Then  in  a  flash  she  seemed  to  com- 
prehend it  all.  She  broke  from  me  and  stood  in  the 
center  of  the  room,  burning  with  shame  and  anger. 

"If  you  are  Michael  Le  Bourse,  what  are  you 
doing  here?" 

Oh,  the  sight  was  pitiful,  both  for  her  and  for  me. 
She  stamped  her  foot  madly. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?  Are  you  a  spy  in 
my  father's  house?  You  wretch,  I  see  it  now.  You 
came  here  to  avenge  your  sister.  You  tricked  me 
into  loving  you.  I  hate  you.  I  thought  you  were 
an  honest  man.  The  shame,  oh  the  shame  to  have 
touched  you.  Is  this  your  just  religion?  Where 
is  your  justice?  In  lying,  in  deceit,  in  being  false 
to  women?  All,  all  to  gain  your  own  selfish  ends. 
The  dogs  in  my  father's  kennels  would  hold  better 
faith  than  that.  Yet  you  judge  others.  You  say 
we  Catholics  are  untrue.  God  shield  us,  we  are  not 
ashamed  to  own  our  names." 

I  tried  to  interrupt  her.  She  only  drew  her  skirts 
about  her  and  edged  off  as  if  I  were  diseased. 


THE  EFFECT  OF  KIDD'S  VISIT        329 

"Don't  speak  to  me.  Your  poor  sister!  If  she 
were  alive  it  would  break  her  heart  to  hear  of  this. 
She  used  to  talk  about  you.  I  have  heard  her  speak 
so  often  of  your  honor.  This  would  break  her 
heart.    Stand  by  and  let  me  go." 

She  moved  towards  the  door,  going  by  the  edge 
of  the  room,  so  as  to  keep  as  far  away  from  me 
as  possible. 

"Mistress  Van  Volkenberg,"  I  said  when  she  was 
near  the  threshold,  "there  is  much  justice  in  what 
you  say." 

"Of  course  there  is  much  justice  in  what  I  say." 

"But  you  are  not  right  in  all.  I  cannot  explain 
everything  now,  but  let  me  tell  you  my  resolution. 
I  am  willing  to  make  amends." 

"Amends !  You  cannot.  You  are  false  to  perdi- 
tion." 

"I  can  confess  myself  and  give  myself  up  to  jus- 
tice." 

"Yes,  your  justice.  Go  to  your  sweet  Earl  and 
say,  'Faith,  I've  been  a  naughty  boy,  forgive  me.* 
And  he  will  say,  'Yes.'  I  know  him.  My  father 
would  not  stand  his  evil  practice  and  that  is  why 
he  left  the  council.  So  your  horseback-riding  gov- 
ernor is  your  amends,  is  it?  I  see  you  are  a  coward 
as  well  as  a  villain.  O  God,  can  such  men  live  and 
look  like  other  men?" 

"No,  mistress,  this  is  not  what  I  intended  to  do. 
I  intended  to  go  to  your  father." 

"You  dare  not." 


330        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

"That  will  be  seen." 

She  opened  the  door  and  was  on  the  point  of 
going  out  when  she  turned  back, 

"I  believe  you  dare,"  she  muttered. 

Then  she  came  quickl}^  to  my  side. 

"Do  not  do  it.  It  will  do  no  good.  It  will  throw 
him  into  a  passion  and  he  might — might — oh,  fly, 
fly  before  it  is  too  late." 

She  spoke  beseechingly  and  the  anger  in  her 
voice  was  fading  like  the  twilight. 

"But  what  interest,"  I  asked,  "can  you  have  in 
a  villain  and  a  coward?" 

"None,  none,"  she  replied,  "but  that  such  a  worm 
should  linger  in  our  house." 

She  swept  haughtily  from  the  room  without  so 
much  as  a  glance  behind  her.  Indeed  I  was  rightly 
punished.  My  ungenerous  answer  had  but  trampled 
on  her  sweet  good  will.  When  she  went  out  I  felt 
as  if  all  the  light  in  my  life  went  with  her.  Bitterly 
I  reproached  myself  for  my  folly — nay,  worse  than 
folly.  But  it  was  now  too  late  to  mend.  I  could, 
however,  carry  out  my  resolution.  I  could  prove 
that  I  was  not  a  coward.  It  was  the  more  easy  to 
do  because  I  had  already  considered  the  question 
of  making  myself  known  to  the  patroon,  be  the 
consequences  what  they  might.  So,  in  this  state  of 
mind,  fresh  from  the  sting  of  her  contempt  and  full 
of  despair  at  my  own  foolishness,  I  sought  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE   GREAT   SECRET 

I  found  the  patroon  in  much  the  same  position  as 
uLouis  had  found  him  earHer  that  day.  A  few  red 
drops  showed  on  the  scattered  papers;  otherwise 
all  signs  of  the  henchman's  death  had  disappeared. 
The  patroon  was  seated  in  his  leather  chair  with 
his  sword  in  his  hand  when  I  entered. 

"Close  the  door,  Vincent,"  he  said. 

I  turned  to  do  so,  and  almost  immediately  I 
heard  a  quick  step  behind  me.  A  mirror  on  the 
wall  warned  me  of  my  danger.  I  sprang  aside  just 
in  time  to  avoid  a  vicious  thrust  of  the  patroon's 
sword. 

"Coward !"  I  cried.    "From  behind." 

"What  have  you  to  say  of  'from  behind?'  I  strike 
cowards  and  dogs  from  behind  when  they  won't 
show  their  faces — why  not  spies  as  well?  Answer 
me  that,  Michael  Le  Bourse." 

So  he,  too,  had  found  me  out.  I  dare  say  he  had 
overheard  my  conversation  with  his  daughter  from 
some  secret  passage.  He  stood  before  me  now, 
glaring  at  me  with  pent  up  passion. 

"Draw  your  sword,  Mike.  You  have  an  Irish 
name,  but  a  fool's  wit.  Don't  you  see  the  humor  of 
it?    The  Earl  and  I  must  wait  a  while.     But  you 

331 


332        PAT  ROOM   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

and  I,  our  time  has  come.  You  shall  never  have 
my  daughter  while  I  live.  Draw,  man,  draw,  or  I'll 
spit  you  like  a  dog." 

Our  swords  were  out  and  crossed  in  the  twinkle 
of  an  eye.  He  fought  wildly,  bent  upon  taking  my 
life,  and  careless  of  his  own.  His  all  depended  on 
it,  yet  he  was  man  enough  not  to  call  for  help.  I 
meanwhile  stood  upon  the  defensive  and  nothing 
more. 

Had  we  both  been  in  earnest  it  would  have  been 
short  shrift  for  the  patroon.  I  had  the  advantage, 
both  in  years  and  strength,  as  well  as  in  skill  with 
my  w^eapon.  From  the  first  I  was  as  cool  as  if 
drilling  on  parade.  My  very  coolness  seemed  to 
exasperate  him  further.  After  a  few  passes  his  man- 
ner began  to  change.  I  saw  the  scared  look  in  his 
face  and  the  flush  of  blood  that  always  came  before 
one  of  his  mad  seizures.  Then  he  began  to  grow 
unsteady.  The  swiftness  of  his  blows  redoubled. 
He  left  his  body  unguarded  twenty  times.  I  could, 
had  I  been  so  minded,  have  run  him  through  with 
my  eyes  shut.  Still  he  fought  on  with  bhnd  despera- 
tion. 

Then  we  heard  someone  coming  down  the  hall. 
There  was  a  woman's  cry  of  terror.  The  next  mo- 
ment Miriam,  unmindful  of  her  own  danger,  dashed 
between  us  and  caught  her  father  in  her  arms. 

She  gave  me  one  glance  of  withering  contempt. 

"On  top  of  all  you  would  murder  him  before  my 
eyes.    Be  gone." 


THE  GREAT  SECRET  333 

I  went  out  and  down  the  corridor,  minded  to  go 
back  to  Yorke.  At  the  door  two  guards  stopped 
me  and  turned  me  back.  Miriam  had  told  me  that 
I  was  a  prisoner  in  the  house;  this  confirmed  what 
she  had  said  and  showed  that  my  chance  of  escape 
was  gone. 

"We  have  strict  orders,"  said  one  of  the  guards 
who  turned  me  back,  "No  one  is  to  pass  out." 

I  tried  both  of  the  other  doors  with  the  same  ill 
success.  But  I  did  not  care  much,  I  was  so  miser- 
able. I  felt  that  the  end  had  come,  and  that  it  mat- 
tered little  how  the  blow  fell.  I  went  to  my  room — 
that  was  not  guarded  away  from  me.  As  I  closed 
the  door  I  bethought  me  of  the  second  of  Louis's 
packets,  which  was  still  in  my  pocket  unopened.  I 
took  it  out  and  broke  the  seal.  As  my  eyes  fell 
upon  the  writing,  I  could  not  repress  a  cry  at  the 
startling  news  that  was  contained  in  the  first  line. 

"Sir  Evelin  Marmaduke  is  starving  to  death  in 
the  cave  beneath  the  Hanging  Rock." 

Sir  Evelin  Marmaduke,  he  whom  all  the  city 
mourned  as  dead?  Could  he  be  still  alive?  Louis's 
narrative  was  short  and  clear. 

"Colonel  Fletcher  granted  the  Marmaduke 
estate  to  Patroon  Van  Volkenberg  upon  the  death 
of  Sir  Evelin.  One  day  his  boat  was  caught  in  the 
tide  about  Hell  Gate.  The  patroon  and  I  discov- 
ered him,  half  drowned  and  unconscious,  upon  the 
shore.  The  patroon  wanted  to  let  him  die,  but  I 
insisted  otherwise.     So  he  was  imprisoned  in  the 


SU        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

cave  beneath  the  rock.  By  accident  Ruth  Le 
Bourse  discovered  our  secret.  We  tried  to  keep  her 
silent.  But  she  would  not  consent.  I  repent  now 
that  we  handled  her  so  roughly,  but  she  is  better 
off." 

Brief  as  the  narrative  was,  how  clear  it  made 
everything.  I  remembered  the  many  tales  I  had 
heard  from  Annetje  Dorn  of  victuals  disappearing 
from  the  larder  at  the  dead  of  night;  and  of  comings 
and  goings  from  the  patroon's  part  of  the  house  in 
the  small  hours.  But  what  could  I  do?  He  was 
starving  to  death  and  must  be  rescued  at  once.  The 
doors  below  were  all  shut  tight  to  me.  I  fell  to 
cursing  my  luck  and  the  villainy  of  the  patroon.  I 
raged  back  and  forth  like  a  tiger  in  a  cage.  What 
could  be  done?  Suddenly  the  answer  came.  The 
door  swung  open  and  Miriam  stood  before  me. 
Her  haughty  bearing  was  all  gone.  Her  eyes  were 
red  with  weeping. 

"I  come  to  be  forgiven,"  were  her  first  words. 

"I  did  not  mean  to  kill  him." 

'T  know  it;  forgive  me.  He  has  been  talking  in 
his  madness  and  I  know  all.  God  forgive  me; 
how  I  have  been  deceived.  Will  you  go  with  me 
to  the  Hanging  Rock?" 

I  followed  her  outside  my  door  to  where  stood 
Annetje.  The  three  of  us  proceeded  through  the 
crooked  halls.  At  the  outer  door  we  were  stopped 
by  the  guards. 


THE  GREAT  SECRET  335. 

"Not  go  out?"  cried  Miriam.  "Out  of  my  way! 
I  am  mistress  here." 

The  men  gave  back — there  was  no  gainsaying 
her  when  her  spirit  was  fully  aroused — and  we 
passed  out.  She  bore  herself  with  a  fierce  calmness 
that  was  terrible  to  see.  I  wondered  whether  she 
could  stand  the  strain  produced  by  this  shattering 
of  her  idol;  or  whether  she  would  go  mad. 

"Do  you  know  why  we  are  going?"  she  asked 
in  a  low,  painful  voice. 

"Spare  me,"  I  replied.    "I  know  it  all." 

"How  long  have  you  known  it?" 

"But  just  now.  I  learned  it  from  a  paper  that 
Louis  left  behind." 

"You  must  have  known  many  other  things.  I 
begin  to  understand  why  you  have  not  betrayed  us 
long  ago.  I  have  misjudged  you.  Forgive  me,  but 
there  is  small  time  for  undoing  now.  Let  me  take 
your  hand.  Come,  we  must  run;  it  is  a  matter  of 
minutes  now.     He  may  die  while  we  are  coming." 

When  we  reached  the  cave  Miriam  produced  a 
key  which  she  had  secured  from  her  father.  It  fitted 
the  door  of  the  cave  which  had  been  walled  up  and 
turned  into  a  dungeon.  Within,  upon  short  ex- 
amination, we  discovered  Sir  Evelin.  He  was  a 
fearful  sight;  thin,  lank,  nothing  but  skin  and  bones. 
He  was  so  weak  that  he  could  neither  speak  nor 
walk.  He  looked  blankly  into  the  lantern  like  one 
who  cannot  see.     Annetje  poured  a  spoonful  of 


336    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

liquor  which  he  took  mechanically,  but  he  showed 
no  sign  of  intelligence. 

"Oh,  this  is  terrible,  terrible,  terrible,"  sobbed 
Miriam. 

I  lifted  him  up — he  was  as  light  as  a  child — and 
carried  him  to  the  landing.  We  loosened  a  boat 
and  got  ready  to  take  him  to  Yorke  by  river. 

"Good-by,"  said  Miriam.  ''You  and  Annetje 
must  attend  to  this.     My  place  is  with  my  father." 

"Miriam,"  I  cried,  taking  her  hand. 

"No,  no,"  she  said,  putting  me  back,  "not  now. 
Go  at  once  and  save  his  life." 

I  began  to  remonstrate,  but  she  would  not  hear 
a  word.  Soon  we  were  aboard  the  boat,  and  then 
in  a  minute  we  were  out  upon  the  black  river,  where 
we  could  no  longer  see  the  silent  figure  on  the 
shore.  Annetje  held  Sir  Evelin's  head  in  her  lap 
and  shielded  his  face  from  the  chill  wind.  I  worked 
the  oars.  Before  long  we  were  abreast  of  the  first 
scattered  lights  of  the  town  north  of  the  wall. 

Ever  since  I  had  left  Yorke,  I  had  kept  the  two 
keys  the  governor  had  given  me.  I  resolved  now 
to  go  to  the  little  postern  gate  in  the  west  palisade 
rather  than  to  rouse  the  watch  at  the  city  gate  in 
the  wall.  Ever  since  the  fright  over  an  invasion 
of  the  French,  these  gates  had  been  locked,  and  I 
feared  difficulty  and  delay  from  an  attempt  to  enter 
in  that  manner.  So,  by  way  of  the  postern,  we  got 
him  speedily  to  Marmaduke  Hall.  But  the  mistress 
was  not  at  home. 


THE  GREAT  SECRET  337: 

"Where  is  she?"  I  asked. 

"At  the  governor's  ball." 

Ah,  yes;  I,  too,  had  been  invited  to  that  ball,  and 
by  the  governor  himself.  So  I  set  out  at  once  for 
the  fort,  to  see  the  Earl  and  to  warn  my  lady  of  her 
husband's  safety. 

As  was  natural  they  refused  me  entrance  at  the 
gate  because  I  had  no  card  of  introduction.  But  I 
still  possessed  the  other  key  that  the  governor  had 
given  me  on  the  night  before  I  set  out  from  New 
York  upon  my  adventures  at  the  manor-house.  In 
five  minutes  I  was  inside  the  fort  with  the  wicket 
gate  locked  behind  me.  As  I  approached  the  gov- 
ernor's house,  I  thought  of  what  an  unusual  request 
I  was  about  to  make,  and  whether  the  guard  would 
deliver  it  or  not.  The  earnestness  of  my  manner, 
however,  must  have  affected  him,  for  he  did  my  bid- 
ding after  a  little  persuasion.  Soon  he  returned 
with  an  answer  that  the  Earl  would  see  me.  He 
conducted  me  to  an  inner  room,  and  a  moment  later 
the  governor  appeared. 

He  recognized  me  at  once.  "Ah,  St.  Vincent,  I 
am  glad  to  see  you.    You  are  a  welcome  guest." 

There  was  a  cordiality  in  his  manner  that  an 
observer  would  not  have  suspected.  I  was  sur- 
prised myself,  for  he  thought  me  a  follower  of  the 
patroon.  In  later  times  I  understood  him  better. 
Whatever  faults  he  may  have  had,  Earl  Bellamont 
was  a  gentleman  to  the  heart. 


S38    TATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

I  put  my  finger  upon  my  lips  and  glanced  about 
the  room. 

"Leave  the  room,"  said  the  Earl  to  the  guard 
who  had  accompanied  me.  "What  is  it  that  you 
have  to  say  that  requires  such  secrecy?" 

"My  name  is  not  St.  Vincent,  sir.  I  am  Michael 
Le  Bourse." 

His  astonishment  knew  no  bounds,  and  it  grew 
as  I  told  my  tale.  As  soon  as  I  had  finished  he 
broke  out  with  an  expression  that  showed  how  he 
always  thought  of  others  before  himself. 

"We  must  send  Lady  Marmaduke  home  at 
once." 

He  dispatched  a  messenger  to  fetch  her  from  the 
ball  room.  He  told  her  what  had  happened  with  a 
gentleness  that  won  my  heart  more  than  anything 
he  had  ever  done  before.  She  had  but  one  word 
to  say. 

"Let  me  go  to  him;  take  me  to  my  husband." 

"Accompany  her,  Le  Bourse.  At  midnight, 
when  this  ceremony  is  over,  return  to  me.  I  shall 
leave  orders  at  the  gate  for  your  admission." 

We  set  out  immediately  in  a  chair.  Lady  Mar- 
maduke spoke  hardly  a  word.  Now  and  then  she 
tapped  the  side  of  the  chair  impatiently,  and  often 
there  came  a  struggling  sob.  But  she  gave  no 
other  sign  of  her  great  fear  lest  she  come  too  late. 

Thanks  to  kind  Annetje's  care,  Sir  Evelin  was 
much  improved.  He  was  able  to  recognize  his  wife 
when  she  appeared,  and  I  was  glad  to  note  that 


THE  GREAT  SECRET  339 

the  blank  expression  in  his  eyes  had  gone  some- 
what. I  waited  till  it  was  time  to  return  to  the  fort. 
The  mistress  saw  me  for  a  moment  before  I  went. 
"Tell  him  that  all  is  well.  And  for  you,  my 
Michael,  you  have  my  gratitude  beyond  the  power 
of  words.  Now  go.  I  shall  hear  your  tale  through 
to-morrow." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   LAST   OF  THE   PATROON 

It  was  past  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  I 
finished  my  consultation  with  the  Earl.  Small 
wonder  that  he  walked  up  and  down  the  room  at 
his  wits'  end  what  to  do.  Captain  Kidd  by  this 
time  had  lifted  anchor  and  had  set  sail  with  the 
lawless  crew  that  was  destined  for  a  time  to  stain 
the  name  of  my  patron.  Nor  could  Bellamont  fore- 
see that  he  was  to  come  out  of  this  malicious  attack 
with  his  honor  unsullied  and  his  respect  undimin- 
ished. But  a  still  greater  danger  pressed  close  at 
hand.  There  was  but  one  small  company  of  sol- 
diers inside  the  fort  who  were  loyal  to  the  governor; 
all  the  rest  belonged  to  the  patroon.  They  out- 
numbered us  three  to  one  or  perhaps  more.  We 
were  in  the  enemy's  hands,  and  what  were  we 
to  do? 

Louis,  I  found,  had  not  warned  the  Earl  at  all. 
iWe  learned  later  that  he  had  come  to  the  fort,  but 
had  been  refused  admission.  Whereupon  he  dis- 
patched a  forged  letter  northward  on  his  own  ac- 
count to  recall  the  troops.  But  of  this  we  knew 
nothing  at  the  time.  The  troops  were  not  at  hand 
to  help  us,  nor  did  they  return  in  time  to  be  of  any 
help.     We  had  to  plan  for  the  instant. 

At  last  it  was  arranged  between  us  that  the  few 

340 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  PAT  ROOM        341 

faithful  men  in  the  fort  should  be  roused  at  once. 
As  soon  as  they  had  taken  possession  of  the  armory, 
which  they  could  easily  do,  as  almost  everyone  was 
asleep,  and  the  guard  for  the  night  had  been  chosen 
from  the  loyal  company — after  they  had  got  pos- 
session of  the  armory  they  were  to  waken  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Red  Band  one  by  one  and  throw  them 
into  irons.  Why  make  a  short  story  long?  All  this 
was  accomplished  with  success.  By  four  in  the 
morning  every  man  was  securely  bound  and  the  fort 
saved. 

"But  what  does  this  unfinished  sentence  mean?" 
said  the  Earl,  who  held  Louis's  paper  in  his  hand. 
"Van  Ramm  breaks  off  suddenly,  after  speaking  of 
something  else." 

Then  for  the  first  time  in  many  hours  I  remem- 
bered that  the  patroon  had  spoken  of  a  meeting 
that  night  in  the  neighborhood  of  Webber's  tavern. 

"Your  Excellency,"  I  cried,  "it  must  have  been  of 
great  importance  from  his  manner.  Let  me  set  out 
at  once.  It  may  not  be  too  late.  Perchance  the 
patroon  was  not  well  enough  to  go,  and  has  put 
off  the  meeting  till  the  morning.  The  man,  who- 
ever he  is,  may  have  remained  all  night  at  the 
tavern." 

A  party  of  three  horsemen  was  at  once  got  ready, 
and  Bellamont  insisted  on  going  with  us  himself. 
It  was  just  daylight  when  we  reached  the  inn. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  host,  in  reply  to  our  ques- 
tions.    "There  was  a  stranger  here  last  night,  and 


342    PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

he  had  a  great  spell  of  impatience,  but  he  would 
not  stir  from  the  room,  and  he  stayed  all  night,  and 
he  is  up  stairs  now  asleep.  Shall  I  call  him,  your 
Excellency?" 

"No,"  replied  Bellamont.  "Let  us  go  up  to  his 
room." 

When  we  knocked  the  stranger  refused  to  open 
the  door.  We  made  short  work  of  that  and  soon 
the  door  was  beaten  down.  We  all  stood  agog  at 
what  we  saw  within.  The  man  had  not  retired.  He 
was  fully  dressed  and  the  bed  had  not  been  slept  in. 

"Body  of  me !"  exclaimed  the  host.  "Look  at 
his  head.    What  is  that  he  has  in  his  hands?" 

What  we  saw  was  a  silver  crucifix  and  a  close 
shaven  head.    The  man  was  a  Jesuit  priest. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  asked  the  Earl,  as 
soon  as  his  first  astonishment  had  worn  off  a  bit. 

"Body  of  me,"  cried  the  host;  "you'll  be  hanged. 
That  is  our  law." 

The  priest  turned  a  trifle  pale  at  this,  but  he  was 
no  coward — that  I  could  see  at  the  first  glance. 

"St.  Jacques  protect  me,"  he  said  in  a  calm  voice, 
crossing  himself. 

"Stop  that  twiddle-twoddle,"  interrupted  the 
host,  at  the  same  time  catching  the  priest  roughly 
by  the  shoulder. 

"You  know  the  laws  of  the  province?"  asked  the 
Earl,  sternly. 

"Yes,  I  know  them,"  he  replied,  proudly.  "The 
agent  of  Christ  is  worthy  of  death  in  this  province 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  PATROON        343 

if  he  adhere  to  the  one  true  faith.  Yes,  Sir  Tyrant, 
I  know  your  laws." 

"Do  you  call  the  governor  names?"  yelled  the 
host  in  a  rage.  "Down  on  your  knees  in  an  instant; 
you'll  hang  in  the  air  in  an  hour." 

The  priest  looked  at  the  host  grimly,  and  then 
he  smiled. 

"Pardon  me,  your  honor,  I  mistook  you.  I 
thought  he  was  the  governor.  If  you  are  he,  how- 
ever— " 

"Take  that  for  your  impudence,"  cried  the  host. 

He  had  unbuckled  his  leather  belt  and  struck 
the  priest  with  it  across  the  face.  It  was  all  done  so 
quickly  that  we  could  hardly  see  how  it  happened; 
but  when  I  looked  again,  the  landlord  was  lying 
on  the  floor  with  a  bloody  nose  and  the  priest  was 
rubbing  his  knuckles  which  ached  with  the  sting 
of  the  blow  he  had  given  him. 

"That  will  do,"  said  Bellamont  with  dignity. 
"What  is  your  name?" 

"Jacques." 

That  was  the  word  Louis  had  uttered  in  the 
patroon's  study.  It  had  brought  on  the  blow  that 
killed  him. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?" 

"My  instructions  are  secret,  sir." 

"We'll  draw  your  secrets  out,"  whined  the  host, 
who  was  getting  upon  his  feet  slowly,  and  holding 
his   handkerchief   to   his   nose.      Bellamont   com- 


344    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

manded  him  to  be  still,  and  continued  talking  with 
the  priest. 

"Father  Jacques,  how  much  you  know  of  what 
concerns  me,  I  am  not  aware;  but  this  much  I  know 
of  you;  you  came  here  last  night  expecting  to  meet 
Patroon  Van  Volkenberg,  who  is  now  under  the 
displeasure  of  the  government.  You  know  the  laws 
of  this  province.  If  you  will  disclose  your  secrets  I 
will  give  you  your  life.    Choose." 

"I  refuse,"  answered  the  priest  without  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation. 

I  could  have  grasped  his  hand,  for  I  knew  what 
it  was  to  look  death  in  the  face.  But  that  grim 
sight  did  not  stir  him  visibly.  He  was  a  man,  and 
a  brave  one,  for  all  we  had  against  him. 

"If  you  refuse,"  said  the  Earl,  "I  must  search 
you  and  the  room  for  papers." 

The  man  bowed  without  speaking.  Not  much 
of  a  search  was  needed,  however.  We  had  come  in 
upon  him  so  suddenly  that  he  had  had  no  time  for 
concealment.  A  packet  of  papers  lay  in  full  view 
on  the  table. 

A  brief  examination  of  them  told  the  whole  story. 
The  fear  in  the  city  of  a  French  invasion  proved 
to  be  no  idle  fear;  but  the  invasion  was  not  to 
come  from  the  north.  That  was  the  mistake  and 
was  due  to  the  false  rumors  set  afloat  by  the 
patroon.  There  was  a  French  fleet  a  short  way 
down  the  coast  waiting  a  chance  to  pounce  upon 
the  city  unawares.    They  had  been  in  correspond- 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  PATROON        345 

ence  with  the  patroon  for  some  time.  His  ships  in 
the  harbor  were  to  co-operate  with  the  French  and 
his  men  were  to  surrender  the  fort.  In  return  for 
this  the  old  powers  of  the  patroons  were  to  be  re- 
stored, and  Van  Volkenberg  made  governor  of  the 
province. 

It  was  a  fanciful  plan,  and,  I  must  confess,  within 
an  ace  of  succeeding.  But  they  had  not  reckoned 
against  chance.  The  odd  trick  had  fallen  to  our 
lot.  A  week  later,  all  was  lost  to  them;  for  now  we 
held  the  high  cards  in  our  own  hands. 

"It  is  time  we  were  going,"  said  the  Earl,  when 
we  were  done  with  the  papers.  The  tone  of  his 
voice  and  the  brevity  of  his  speech  showed  how 
much  he  was  affected  by  the  narrow  escape  we  had 
had.  "Bring  that  man  with  us."  Then  he  turned 
to  the  prisoner.  "Have  no  fear  for  your  life,  Father 
Jacques.  It  is  small  love  I  have  for  you,  or  sym- 
pathy for  your  attempt  to  spoil  my  government. 
But  I  can  use  you  better  than  to  weight  a  rope. 
You  shall  back  to  this  French  fleet  of  yours  and 
tell  them  that  the  English  governor  is  ready  for 
them;  but  not  till  I  have  seen  Van  Volkenberg. 
Bind  him,  Le  Bourse;  we  must  to  the  fort  in  haste." 

We  had  gone  down  stairs  and  were  in  the  tavern 
doorway  when  who  should  ride  up  but  the  man  of 
all  men  we  wanted  most  at  that  moment — Van  Vol- 
kenberg. He  saw  us  standing  there  with  the  priest 
a  prisoner.     He  took  in  the  situation  at  a  glance. 


346   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

He  shook  his  fist  at  me  and  spat  in  the  governor's 
face. 

"Zounds!  Dogs!"  he  cried.  "You  think  you 
have  me.  But  the  fort  is  mine.  Do  you  take  me 
there!" 

He  clapped  spurs  to  his  horse  and  was  oflf  Hke 
an  arrow. 

"After  him,  Le  Bourse,"  cried  the  Earl.  "You 
have  the  best  horse.    Stop  him  alive  or  dead." 

The  patroon  had  the  start  of  me  by  five  hundred 
yards.  Our  horses  were  an  even  match  for  swift- 
ness, but  the  patroon  rode  lighter  in  body.  For 
all  that,  he  gained  like  a  snail.  He  thundered  across 
the  Kissing  Bridge.  Before  the  echo  of  his  steps 
died  away  the  bridge  was  rocking  beneath  me.  The 
city  gate  stood  open.  A  guard  challenged,  but  he 
sprang  back  to  avoid  a  wide  sweep  of  the  patroon's 
sword.  It  was  straight  away  now  along  Broadway 
to  the  fort.  I  could  hear  him  shouting  at  the  top 
of  his  voice  as  he  drew  near : 

"What  ho;  Van  Volkenberg !  Men  of  the  Red 
Band !  Open  the  gate.  Van  Volkenberg,  Van 
Volkenberg,  Van  Volkenberg !" 

But  the  rallying  cry  of  the  Red  Band  was  not 
answered.  The  patroon  halted  before  the  gate, 
grinding  his  teeth  in  rage. 

"What  ho !"  I  cried,  from  behind,  mocking  his 
voice.  "Open  the  gate.  Van  Volkenberg!  The 
Red  Band  is  all  asleep,"  I  continued,  addressing 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  PATROON        347 

him.  "They  sleep  late  to-day  in  irons.  Yield,  in 
the  name  of  Bellamont." 

Just  as  I  reached  the  point  where  he  had  stopped, 
he  drew  his  pistol  and  fired.  My  horse  received 
the  ball  in  his  breast  and  stumbled  headlong,  throw- 
ing me  upon  the  ground.  We  were  so  close,  I 
touched  the  patroon's  horse  when  I  went  down. 
For  a  moment  I  lay  stunned.  Then  I  gradually 
heard  the  clattering  of  hoofs.  I  rose  with  difficulty 
just  in  time  to  see  Van  Volkenberg  dash  down 
Petticoat  Lane  and  turn  northward  through  the 
city. 

By  this  time  the  rest  of  our  party  rode  up.  They 
had  been  so  encumbered  with  the  priest,  who  had 
purposely  tried  to  hold  them  back  from  joining  in 
the  pursuit,  that  they  were  too  late  to  be  of  any 
use  in  stopping  the  patroon.  When  they  arrived, 
he  must  have  been  at  least  through  the  gate,  or 
well  on  his  way  north  to  the  Hanging  Rock. 

Lady  Marmaduke  often  used  to  rail  against  the 
Earl  because  he  was  forever  on  the  wait  for  a  better 
opportunity  to  turn  up.  My  short  experience  of 
him  seemed  to  prove  otherwise.  For  all  that,  she 
was  not  so  far  wrong.  I  found,  when  I  came  to 
know  him  better,  that  he  was  not  prone  to  action 
when  he  had  time  for  deliberation.  But  when  a 
thing  had  to  be  done  in  short  order,  he  did  it  with 
a  speed  and  decision  that  rivaled  the  patroon.  On 
the  day  of  Jacques'  arrest,  however,  Bellamont  was 
mad  with  prudence.    Both  Lady  Marmaduke  and 


348   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG 

I  urged  him  with  all  our  power  to  capture  the 
patroon  at  once.  Give  him  a  few  hours  and  he 
might  yet  muster  a  large  enough  band  to  endanger 
the  city  in  its  present  state.  There  were  a  few  men 
still  left  at  the  manor-house,  and  the  ships  in  the 
bay  were  mostly  manned  with  fighting  men. 

Bellamont,  however,  would  not  agree  with  us. 
He  was  afraid  to  take  decisive  action.  "I  have  still 
one  company,"  he  said.  "They  can  defend  the  fort 
against  a  host.  But  if  I  send  them,  or  even  a  part 
of  them  to  the  Hanging  Rock,  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  guard  the  prisoners  I  have  already  taken.  And 
a  few  men  can  defend  the  manor-house  as  well  as  I 
can  defend  the  fort.  The  manor-house  is  almost  a 
castle  in  its  position." 

"But,"  interrupted  Lady  Marmaduke,  "why  not 
strike  before  he  can  get  his  defense  together.  I  can 
fill  out  your  number  with  twenty  armed  men  of  my 
own." 

"You  are  too  hasty,"  replied  the  Earl.  "Remem- 
ber the  old  proverb:  Give  the  devil  rope  enough  to 
hang  himself.  The  patroon  can  never  gather  head 
to  harm  us  now." 

"Harm  us !"  exclaimed  Lady  Marmaduke  in  con- 
tempt. "Is  your  own  safety  all  you  have  to  care 
for?  Had  you  seen  my  poor  husband  as  I  saw  him 
last  night,  the  skin  nearly  cut  through  by  his  sharp 
bones,  and  too  weak  to  say  a  dozen  words.  No,  if 
you  have  nothing  but  harm  to  fear,  I  have  revenge 
to  seek.    While  he  lives  I  shall  not  rest.     I  swear 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  PATROON        349 

before  God,  if  you  will  not  help  me  I  shall  do  it 
alone.  Do  you  suppose  I  can  forget?  My  hus- 
band stolen  away  and  me  mourning  him  for  dead. 
And  well  nigh  dead  he  is.  Ah,  I  have  had  dreams. 
I  have  seen  this  moment  coming.  I  knew  there 
was  to  be  a  day  of  reckoning.  God's  help !  This 
day  Yorke  shall  see  great  deeds.  They  call  me  the 
people's  friend,  I  shall  try  the  people.  The  voice 
of  the  people  is  the  voice  of  God." 

Lady  Marmaduke  strode  rapidly  out  of  the  room 
and  in  a  moment  she  was  gone. 

"Follow  her,  Le  Bourse,"  said  my  patron,  "She 
is  at  her  wits'  end.  She  has  had  great  wrong.  I 
fear  she  will  do  something  rash." 

The  news  of  the  priest's  arrest  had  already  got 
abroad,  and  also  the  truth  about  the  French  fleet. 
Although  it  confirmed  their  fears  the  people  felt 
more  at  ease,  for  they  knew  now  what  to  expect, 
and  had  full  confidence  in  the  governor.  When  I 
reached  the  gate  of  the  fort  a  crowd  of  loiterers  was 
gathered  about  the  Marmaduke  pump.  When  my 
lady  appeared  they  greeted  her  with  cheers. 

"Good  friends,"  she  said. 

"Silence  there,"  cried  several.  "Lady  IMarma- 
duke  is  speaking." 

In  a  moment  there  was  silence. 

"Good  friends,  good  people,  I  beheve  you  love 
me  and  my  house,  I  have  come  to  throw  myself 
upon  your  protection." 

There  were  more  cheers,  and  cries  of:  "We  will!" 


350        PATROON  V:AN  VOLKENBERG 

"Hear,  hear."  "Right  or  wrong  we'll  follow  Lady 
Marmaduke." 

"But  it  is  right,"  she  continued,  silencing  them 
with  her  hand.  "There  has  been  a  great  wrong. 
The  patroon  of  the  Hanging  Rock  has  been  trying 
to  sell  the  city  to  the  French." 

"Down  with  the  French!  Down  with  the  Van. 
Volkenberg !    Treason,  treason !" 

There  were  some  of  my  own  countrymen  in  the 
crowd,  but  they  shouted  with  the  rest.  Our  French 
persecutors  were  not  considered  as  fellow-country- 
men in  those  days. 

"My  good  friends,  do  not  be  rash.  Go  about  the 
city.  Summon  those  who  love  me.  Tell  them  to 
come  to  Marmaduke  Hall  in  half  an  hour.  There 
I  will  show  you  proof." 

"We  want  no  proof.    To  the  Hanging  Rock !" 

"Stay,  friends,  stay;  do  as  I  bid  you.  Before 
Marmaduke  Hall  in  thirty  minutes." 

She  stepped  into  her  chair  and  was  carried  home. 
Half  an  hour  later  there  was  a  great  crowd  before 
her  house.    She  appeared  on  the  balcony. 

"Did  you  love  my  husband?"  was  her  first  breath- 
less question.  "Then  listen  to  me.  We  thought 
him  dead.  You,  I,  all  of  us  wore  black  for  that. 
It  was  by  his  will  that  I  dug  the  Marmaduke  well 
for  the  people.  But  he  was  not  dead.  He  has  come 
back  to  us." 

I  shall  hear  the  cheer  that  followed  this  fact  when 
I  am  dead  and  in  my  grave. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  PATROON        351 

"Wait,  friends,  wait  till  I  show  him  to  you." 
She  disappeared,  but  soon  came  back,  carrying 
her  husband  in  her  arms.  A  cry  of  horror  rose 
when  they  saw  his  starved  condition.  "Do  you  re- 
member Sir  Evelin,  good  friends?  He  used  to  rival 
the  Earl  upon  a  horse.  Where  are  the  roses  in  his 
cheeks?"  Sir  Evelin  dropped  his  head  upon  his 
wife's  shoulder  from  very  weakness.  "See,  he  can- 
not even  raise  his  head  to  look  at  you  he  loved. 
Can  you  see  this  without  a  tear?  Will  you  stand 
by  and  permit  this  to  go  unpunished  in  a  friend  to 
Yorke?  How  has  he  lost  his  strength?  In  the 
prison  at  Hanging  Rock.  Now  you  cry  out.  The 
patroon  thought  to  get  this  house.  We  have  no 
children,  and  our  will  leaves  it  to  the  city.  Van 
Volkenberg  wanted  to  rob  you.  He  would  starve 
your  wives  and  children,  too.  Look  upon  this  poor 
man  and  see  what  the  patroon  has  done.  He 
plotted  to  give  up  the  city.  He  rumored  it  about 
that  Frontenac  was  coming  from  the  north,  and  all 
the  time  he  was  plotting  for  an  invasion  from  the 
sea.  He  filled  the  fort  with  his  Red  Band  under 
the  pretense  of  friendship.  The  Earl  has  beaten 
him  there,  but  that  is  not  all.  Give  him  two  hours, 
nay,  one,  and  he  will  lead  an  army  into  the  city. 
Look,  look  upon  my  husband.  Will  you  not  act 
for  your  wives  and  children?" 

Some  mobs  are  boisterous,  others  are  still.  They 
are  the  kind  m.ost  to  be  feared.  There  was  no 
violent  outbreak  of  passion  now,  only  a  smothered 


352        PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

growl.  Then,  at  the  critical  moment,  a  leader 
sprang  out  on  the  northward  side  of  the  crowd. 

"Men  of  Yorke,"  he  shouted  two  or  three  times, 
as  he  ran,  "to  the  Hanging  Rock.    Follow  me  1" 

Without  a  cheer,  without  a  sound  save  the  rumble 
of  their  feet,  the  people  flowed  away  Hke  a  deep 
and  sullen  river  through  its  broken  banks.  I  saw 
a  bitter  smile  come  into  my  lady's  face  as  she  lifted 
her  husband  and  carried  him  back  into  the  house. 
Then  of  a  sudden  I  cried  out  like  a  madman  in  the 
middle  of  the  street.  That  hellish  mob  was  bound 
for  the  manor-house  and  Miriam  was  there.  For 
the  first  time  I  stopped  to  think  how  headless  this 
mob  was  like  to  be.  They  would  not  stop  to 
question  when  they  were  once  before  the  house. 
The  least  they  could  do  would  be  to  burn  it,  even 
if  the  patroon  could  make  good  its  defense.  Then 
I  set  out  at  the  top  of  my  speed.  It  was  little  I 
could  do,  but  if  need  be,  I  could  die  with  her,  and 
some  chance  might  come  that  would  help  me  to 
save  her.  In  a  moment  I  found  myself  mingling 
\vith  the  silent  runners  bent  on  destruction.  The 
crowd  swept  on  in  that  terrible  stillness.  It  swirled 
out  at  the  crossing  of  streets  and  jamm.ed  back  re- 
sistlessly  into  the  narrow  ways.  It  poured  through 
the  Land  Port  like  a  flood  and  across  the  Kissing 
Bridge.    Still  we  surged  on. 

Yet  it  was  but  a  mob.  A  score  of  Lady  Marma- 
duke's  retainers,  armed  to  the  teeth,  had  got  to 
the  front.    The  rest  were  without  weapons.    What 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  PAT  ROOM        353 

could  they  do  against  the  house  of  the  patroon? 
As  they  spread  out  among  the  trees  in  the  park  a 
volley  of  shots  were  fired  at  them  from  the  win- 
dows of  the  manor-house.  Three  of  the  foremost 
men  fell  dead  or  wounded.  Then  went  up  their 
first  heartless  yell  of  rage. 

Lady  Marmaduke's  men  stationed  themselves 
behind  trees  and  aimed  with  such  certainty  that 
they  soon  silenced  the  fire  from  the  house.  If  a 
face  appeared  at  a  window,  a  dozen  muskets  were 
immediately  discharged  at  it.  Meantime,  under 
this  protection,  the  mob  began  to  attack  the  house 
with  stones.  The  windows  were  all  broken  at  the 
first  volley.  They  fetched  a  long  beam  to  use  as  a 
battering  ram,  and  were  getting  ready  to  beat  in 
the  front  door.  In  this  crisis,  I  cast  about  me  for 
some  means  of  help.  But  I  was  powerless.  Once 
I  thought  that  I  saw  Miriam  for  a  moment  at  one 
of  the  windows.  She  disappeared  quickly.  Had 
someone  dragged  her  back,  or  had  she  been  hit 
by  one  of  the  marksmen?  Such  a  thought  was 
torment  worse  than  death.  But  she  might  be  safe. 
For  all  that  I  could  do  nothing  to  save  her. 

But  what  I  could  not  do  was  nobly  done  by  an- 
other. I  had  drawn  back  somewhat  so  as  to  go 
around  the  edges  of  the  crowd  and  come  at  the 
house  from  the  rear.  I  hoped  to  find  some  way  by 
which  I  could  get  in  and  help  defend  it.  I  had  half 
accomplished  the  necessary  detour,  and  had  reached 
a  point  where  the  woods  hid  the  yelling  pack  from 


354   PATROON  VAN  VOLKENBERG. 

my  eyes,  when  a  horseman  came  riding  towards  me 
like  mad. 

"Heavens !"  I  cried.    "It  is  the  patroon." 

My  first  impulse  was  to  stop  him.  Then  I  re- 
membered that  he  of  all  men  would  prevent  me 
from  entering  the  house.  And  from  this  meeting 
I  took  some  hope.  If  there  was  an  unwatched 
passage  by  which  he  could  get  out,  I  might  enter 
by  the  same  way. 

St^Jdenly  there  leaped  into  my  head  a  damning 
thought.  He  rode  hard,  like  one  mad  with  fear, 
looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left.  "What 
a  coward,"  thought  I,  "thus  to  leave  his  daughter 
to  her  fate."  Among  all  his  crimes,  he  had  ever 
clung  to  his  one  virtue,  love  of  his  daughter. 
Never,  save  when  his  infirmity  was  upon  him,  had 
he  shown  anything  but  the  most  loving  tenderness 
to  her.  And  now,  at  the  great  moment  of  peril,  he 
had  left  her  to  ride  like  a  coward  for  his  own  life. 

He  passed  me  so  close  I  could  have  touched  him. 
Perhaps  his  conscience  stung  him  in  spite  of  all,  for 
I  heard  her  name  on  his  lips  as  he  dashed  by  me. 

"Miriam,"  he  was  saying;  "Miriam,  I  give  you 
all." 

I  turned  to  follow  with  my  eyes  this  worthless 
coward  who  could  think  of  his  daughter  and  not 
stay  and  die  with  her.  Two  minutes  later  he  was 
fleeing  beyond  the  little  patch  of  woods  and  within 
full  sight  of  the  mob.  But  they  were  so  intent  upon 
their  attack  that  they  did  not  see  him  at  first. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  PATROON        355 

I  listened  for  their  yell  of  discovery  with  the 
tension  of  a  slow  striking  bell.  It  did  not  come. 
Then — had  the  man  gone  mad?  Van  Volkenberg 
slackened  his  pace,  fell  into  a  walk,  then  stopped 
and  turned  back  towards  the  mob.  What  was  he 
going  to  do?  Why  did  he  not  continue  his  cow- 
ardly flight?  If  he  were  going  to  escape,  did  he 
not  know  that  every  second  was  a  year  of  his  life? 
I  saw  him  raise  his  finger  and  make  the  sign  of  the 
cross.  Then  he  put  his  hands  to  his  mouth  like  a 
trumpet  and  shouted : 

"Ho!    Do  you  seek  me?    Van  Volkenberg?" 

What  followed  I  cannot  tell.  I  can  hardly  bear 
even  to  think  of  it.  He  dashed  spurs  into  his  horse 
and  fled  towards  New  York.  I  heard  a  yell  of 
joy  from  the  savage  mob,  A  sight  of  him  was 
like  a  taste  of  blood.  They  followed  out  across  the 
open  ground.  But,  as  might  have  been  expected, 
he  gained  on  them  fast  and  they  saw  that  they 
would  lose  him.  With  that  they  turned  back.  The 
house,  at  least,  was  at  their  mercy.  But  as  they 
turned  back,  Van  Volkenberg  turned  back  also. 
He  rode  gallantly,  and  I  could  hear  his  powerful 
voice  taunting  them  for  cowards. 

"Is  it  the  leader  of  the  Red  Band  you  seek? 
Come  on,  you  scum  of  Yorke.  Here  is  a  man. 
Come  on,  you  dogs." 

They  were  after  him  again,  pell-mell.  It  was 
then  that  I  lifted  up  my  voice  and  cried  with  a  will : 
*'Grod  save  the  good  patroon !" 


'356        'PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

I  understood  it  all  at  last.  Within  the  house  was 
certain  death  to  everyone.  Yet  it  was  he  only 
whom  they  wanted.  He  had  thus  offered  himself 
to  lure  them  away  from  the  house  where  his  daugh- 
ter was.  He  knew  they  were  incensed  against  him. 
They  cared  not  a  snap  of  their  fingers  for  the  rest 
of  his  household  except  as  they  would  do  his  bid- 
ding and  fight  against  them.  They  were  bent  on 
his  destruction  and  he  knew  it,  so  he  had  purposely 
made  himself  a  bait  to  draw  them  away  from  the 
neighborhood.  This  was  what  his  muttering  meant 
when  he  dashed  by  me :  "Miriam,  I  give  you  all." 

I  set  out  with  the  rest.  He  rode  ahead  and  the 
mob  came  after  him.  Suddenly  I  heard  the  crack 
of  a  musket.  Lady  Marmaduke's  men  were  getting 
to  the  front  again.  Then  another  and  another. 
Still  the  old  man  rode  bravely  at  the  front,  with 
the  mob  howling  at  his  heels.  At  last  he  fell.  Let 
us  hope  the  bullet  touched  his  heart  and  that  he 
was  dead  before  they  reached  him.  I  covered  my 
eves  in  horror.  They  pounced  upon  him  like  curs. 
Let  me  not  relate  the  mutilation  that  followed. 
That  was  a  bloody  act.  Its  like  for  cruelty  I  have 
never  seen  before  nor  since. 

And  so  he  died,  a  hero.  I  had  had  great  wrong 
at  his  hands;  for  all  that  I  bowed  my  head  and 
breathed  a  prayer  for  his  soul.  He  had  the  great 
love  that  the  Bible  speaks  of.  He  gave  his  life  for 
another;  and  who  am  I  to  call  him  into  judgment? 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

CONCLUSION 

Let  me  pass  briefly  over  the  next  six  months.  It 
is  now  midsummer  and  the  city  is  at  peace.  Al- 
ready the  Red  Band  is  a  thing  of  the  past  and  well- 
nigh  forgotten.  Jacques'  return  with  a  message 
to  the  invaders  was  effective.  We  heard  no  more 
of  the  French  fleet.  The  men  of  the  Red  Band, 
bereft  of  their  leader,  were  incapable  of  a  stand  and 
were,  for  the  most  part,  allowed  to  go  free.  Sir 
Evelin  Marmaduke  slowly  grew  strong  and  re- 
sumed his  position  in  the  affairs  of  the  city.  And 
Annetje  Dorn  became  willing  to  pass  the  Kissing 
Bridge  arm  in  arm  with  my  little  friend  Pierre. 

For  Miriam  and  me,  however,  there  was  much 
of  sorrow.  She  had  greatly  misjudged  me,  and  the 
recollection  of  it  stung  her  to  the  heart.  But  I  had 
still  greater  sins  upon  my  soul.  I  had  done  much 
wrong,  albeit  I  had  intended  to  do  right.  Through 
craft  and  deceit  I  had  driven  the  patroon  to  bay, 
and  I  took  upon  myself  the  blame  for  his  last  great 
crimes.  My  remorse  was  a  heavy  burden  and  I 
prayed  through  many  a  weary  night  to  be  for- 
given. At  last,  after  many  resolutions  and  much 
perusal  of  my  Bible,  this,  too.  passed  away,  and  I 
knew  myself  a  better  and  a  worthier  man. 

357 


S58    PATROON  VAN   VOLKENBERG 

So,  with  the  midsummer  brightness  came  joyful 
times  at  last.  We  were  all  together  one  afternoon 
in  the  assembly  hall  at  the  fort.  It  was  a  room  filled 
with  memories  to  me.  There  the  Earl  had  tasted 
salt  when  I  visited  him  on  my  first  day  in  New 
York;  there  I  had  seen  the  patroon  baited  to  his 
fall,  which  he  had  withstood  with  quiet  dignity;  I 
had  seen  it  full  of  light  and  of  the  sound  of  merry- 
music  on  the  night  when  I  brought  the  dreadful 
news  of  Sir  Evelin's  escape  and  of  the  danger  which 
threatened  to  fall  upon  the  city  from  the  sea.  But 
now  all  was  changed  and  well  in  keeping  with  the 
brightness  of  the  day  without. 

Sir  Evelin  and  I  were  in  one  comer  of  the  room 
listening  with  considerable  amusement  to  a  debate 
which  was  going  on  in  the  center  by  the  great 
carved  table.  Lady  Marmaduke  and  the  Earl  were 
striving  with  as  much  heat  as  good  nature  would 
allow;  and  Miriam,  the  cause  of  their  dispute,  stood 
beside  them. 

"I  tell  you,"  cried  Lady  Marmaduke  hotly,  "I  tell 
you  it  is  all  nonsense.  She  shall  be  married  at  Mar- 
maduke Hall." 

Miriam  looked  at  me  and  smiled  as  the  Earl  re- 
plied: "Nay,  nay,  I  have  a  greater  claim.  She 
shall  be  married  in  the  fort,  with  all  the  pomp  of 
martial  music,  and  my  guard  drawn  up  in  line,  and 
all  that." 

"Bah,  what  is  your  claim?"  cried  Lady  Marma- 
duke, stamping  her  foot  upon  the  floor.    "I  will  not 


CONCLUSION  359 

have  it.  She  shall  be  married  in  my  house  or  I'll 
never  stir  from  this  spot.  What  claim  have  you 
that  she  should  be  married  here?" 

"If  it  comes  to  that,"  replied  the  Earl,  with  a 
smile,  "I  shall  make  a  claim  straightway." 

With  that  he  took  from  the  table  a  legal  looking- 
document  and  handed  it  to  Miriam. 

"Unfold,  my  child,  and  read  what  has  been  set 
down  therein." 

"What,  what  is  this?"  cried  Miriam,  as  she  cast 
her  eye  down  the  ponderous  instrument.  "This  is 
the  title  to  the  estate  of  Hanging  Rock.  What 
have  I  to  do  with  that?  You  told  me  that  my  father 
had  resigned  it  into  your  hands  as  an  act  of  justice." 

"So  he  did.    Read  on,  my  dear." 

Suddenly  the  bright  spots  came  out  upon  her 
cheeks. 

"Can  I  believe  my  eyes?  It  is  new  engrossed  and 
in  my  name.  Do  you  mean  that  the  manor-house 
and  park  belong  to  me?" 

"Ay;  to  you  and  to  your  heirs  forever." 

"Oh,  Sir  Richard  !    How  can  I  thank  you !" 

"Now  does  the  King's  fort  deserve  the  honor  of 
your  wedding?" 

"Miriam,  you  will  choose  Marmaduke  Hall." 

"Choose  the  fort,"  said  the  Earl. 

"Let  me  speak  to  Vincent." 

She  came  across  the  room  and  whispered  to  me 
for  a  moment.  But  her  mind  was  already  made  up,, 
and  she  soon  returned. 


360        PATROON   VAN   VOLKENBERG 

'1  thank  you  both,"  she  said.  "I  thank  you 
kindly.  But  since  I  hold  this  title  in  my  hand,  I 
think — yes,  I  am  sure  that  Vincent  and  I  shall  be 
married  in  my  own  manor  at  the  Hanging  Rock." 

And  so  our  trials  ended.  Many  years  have  gone 
by  since  then  and  the  Red  Band  is  forgotten.  My 
noble  patron  has  weathered  safely  the  storm  that 
Captain  Kidd's  treachery  brought  down  upon  his 
head;  he  has  long  since  been  gathered  to  his  fathers, 
honored  and  lamented  by  all  in  the  whole  province 
of  New  York.  My  stern  mistress  and  her  husband 
are  dead,  too,  after  a  ripe  old  age,  their  estate  going 
at  last  to  enrich  the  poor  of  the  city. 

This  ends  my  story,  and  all  words  are  said  save 
one.  My  wife  and  I  have  spent  many  happy  years 
since  that  turbulent  fall  of  1699 — and  she  has  re- 
mained a  Catholic,  and  I  still  cling  to  the  faith  of 
my  Huguenot  parents.  Yet  I  see  the  old  quarrel 
in  a  new  light  now,  and  our  life  together  has  proved 
that  if  the  people  of  our  faiths  would  but  cherish 
the  good  that  is  in  them  instead  of  quarreling  over 
the  bad;  if  they  would  recognize,  as  I  did  once  long 
ago,  that  the  cross  at  least  is  common  to  us  both — 
if  they  would  do  this,  peace  would  come  unto  the 
world,  as  it  has  come  into  Miriam's  life  and  into 
mine. 

THE    END 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET   &    DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

NEW,  CLEVER.  ENTERTAINING. 

GRET :    The  Story  of  a  Pagan.    By  Beatrice  Mantle.    Illustrated 
by  C.  M.  Relyea. 

The  wild  free  life  of  an  Oregon  lumber  camp  furnishes  the  setting  for  this 
strong  original  story.  Gret  is  tlie  daughter  of  the  camp  and  is  utterly  con- 
tent with  the  wild  life— until  love  comes.  A  fine  book,  unmarred  by  con- 
vention. 

OLD  CHESTER   TALES.     By  Margaret  Deland.     Illnstrated 
by  Howard  Pyle. 

A  vivid  yet  delicate  portrayal  of  characters  in  an  old  New  England  town. 

Dr.  Lavendar's  fine,  kindly  wisdom  is  brought  to  bear  upon  the  lives  ai 
all,  permeating  the  whole  volume  like  the  pungent  odor  of  pine,  healthful 
and  life  giving.  "  Old  Chester  Tales  "  will  surely  be  among  the  books  that 
abide. 

THE  MEMOIRS  OF  A  BABY.    By  Josephine  Daskam.    Illus- 
trated by  F.  Y.  Cory. 

The  dawning  intelligence  of  the  baby  was  grappled  with  by  its  great  aunt, 
an  elderly  maiden,  whose  book  knowledge  orbabies  was  something  at  which 
even  the  infant  himself  winked.    A  delicious  bit  of  humor. 

REBECCA  MARY.      By  Annie  Hamilton  Donnell.      Illustrated 
by  EKzabeth  Shippen  Green. 
The  heart  tragedies  of  this  little  girl  with  no  one  near  to  share  them,  ait 
told  with  a  delicate  art,  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  needs  of  the  childisL 
heart  and  a  humorous  Knowledge  of  the  workings  of  the  childish  mind. 

THE  FLY  ON  THE  WHEEL.    By  Katherine  CecU  Thurston. 
Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 
An  Irish  story  of  real  power,  perfect  in  development  and  showing  a  true 
conception  of  the  spirited  Hibernian  character  as  displayed  in  the  tragic  as 
well  as  the  tender  phases  of  life. 

THE  MAN  FROM  BRODNEY'S.    By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher. 
An  island  in  the  South  Sea  is  the  setting  for  this  entertaining  tale,  and 
an  all-conquering  hero  and  a  beautiful  princess  figure  in  a  most  complicated 
plot.    One  of  Mr.  McCutcheon's  best  books. 

TOLD  BY  UNCLE  REMUS.  By  Joel  Chandler  Harris.  Illus- 
trated  by  A.  B.  Frost,  J.  M.  Conde  and  Frank  Verbeck. 
Again  Uncle  Remus  enters  the  fields  of  childhood,  and  leads  another 
little  boy  to  that  non-locatab!e  land  called  "  Brer  Rabbit's  Laughing 
Place,"  and  again  the  quaint  animals  spring  into  active  life  and  play  their 
parts,  for  the  edification  of  a  small  but  appreciative  audience. 

THE  CLIMBER.    By  E.  F.  Benson.     With  frontispiece. 

An  unsparing  analysis  of  an  ambitious  woman's  soul— a  woman  who 
believed  that  in  social  supremacy  she  would  find  happiness,  and  who  finds 
instead  the  utter  despair  of  one  who  has  chosen  the  things  that   pass  away. 

LYNCH'S  DAUGHTER-    By  Leonard  Merrick.    Illustrated  by 
Geo.  Brehm. 
A  story  of  to-day,  telling  how  a  rich  girl  acquires  ideals  of  beautiful  and 
simple  living,  and  of  men  and  love,  quite  apart  from  the  teachings  of  her 
father,  "  Old  Man  Lynch  ";of;Wall  St.    True  to  life,  clever  in  treatment. 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


GROSSET  &   DUNLAP'S 

DRAMATIZED  NOVELS 

A  Few  that  are  Making  Theatrical  History 

MARY  JANE'S  PA.    By  Norman  Way.    Illustrated  with  scenes 
from  the  play. 
Delightful,  irresponsible  "  Mary  Jane's  Pa"  awakes  one  morning  to  find  ' 
himselT  famous,  and,  genius  being  ill  adapted  to  domestic  joys,  he  wanders 
from  home  to  work  out  his  own  unique  destiny.    One  of  the  most  humorous 
bits  of  recent  fiction. 

CHERUB  DEVINE.    By  Sewell  Ford. 

"  Cherub,"  a  good  hearted  but  not  over  refined  young  man  is  brought  in 
touch  with  the  aristocracy.  Of  sprightly  wit,  he  is  sometimes  a  merciless 
analyst,  but  he  proves  in  the  end  that  manhood  counts  for  more  than  anci* 
ent  linage  by  winning  the  love  of  the  fairest  girl  in  the  flock. 

A  WOMAN'S  WAY.     By  Charles  Somerville.    Illustrated  with 
scenes  from  the  play. 
A  story  in  which  a  woman's  wit  and  self-sacrificing  love  save  her  husband 
from  the  toils  of  an  adventuress,  and  change  an  apparently  tragic  situation 
into  one  of  delicious  comedy. 

THE  CLIMAX.    By  George  C.  Jenks. 

With  ambition  luring  her  on,  a  young  choir  soprano  leaves  the  little  village 
where  she  was  born  and  the  limited  audience  of  St.  Jude's  to  train  for  the 
opera  in  New  York.  She  leaves  love  behind  her  and  meets  love  more  ardent 
but  not  more  sincere  in  her  new  environment.  How  she  works,  how  she 
Studies,  how  she  suffers,  are  vividly  portrayed. 

A  FOOL  THERE  WAS.     By  Porter  Emerson  Browne.     Illus- 
trated by  Edmund  Magrath  and  W.  W.  Fawcett. 

A  relentless  portrayal  of  the  career  of  a  man  who  comes  under  the  influence 
of  a  beautiful  but  evil  woman ;  how  she  lures  him  on  and  on,  how  he 
struggles,  falls  and  rises,  only  to  fall  again  into  her  net,  make  a  story  of 
unflmching  realism. 

THE  SQUAW   MAN.     By  Julie  Opp  Faversham  and  Edwin 
Milton  Royle.    Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  glowing  story,  rapid  in  action,  bright  in  dialogue  with  a  fine  courageous 
hero  and  a  beautiful  Enghsh  herome. 

THE  GIRL  IN  WAITING.     By  Archibald  Eyre.     Illustrated 
with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  droll  little  comedy  of  misunderstandings,  told  with  a  light  touch,  a  ven- 
turesome spirit  and  an  eye  for  human  oddities. 

THE    SCARLET    PIMPERNEL.     By  Baroness  Orczy.     lUus- 

trated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  realistic  story  of  the  days  of  the  French  Revolution,  abounding  in 
dramatic  incident,  witli  a  young  English  soldier  of  fortune,  daring,  mysteri- 
ous as  the  hero, 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


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THE  MUSIC  MASTER.  By  Charles  Klein.  Illustrated 
by  John  Rae. 
This  marvelously  vivid  narrative  turns  upon  the  search  of  a  Ger- 
man musician  in  JNew  York  for  his  httle  daughter.  Mr.  Klein  has 
■well  portrayed  his  pathetic  struggle  with  poverty,  his  varied  expe- 
riences in  endeavoring  to  meet  the  demands  of  a  public  not  trained 
to  an  appreciation  of  the  classic,  and  his  final  great  hour  when,  in 
the  rapidly  shifting  events  of  a  big  city,  his  little  daughter,  now  a 
beautifnl  young  woman,  is  brought  to  his  very  door.  A  superb  bit 
of  fiction,  palpitating  with  the  life  of  the  great  metropolis.  The 
play  in  which  David  Warfield  scored  his  highest  success. 

DR.  LAVENDAR'S  PEOPLE.  By  Margaret  Deland. 
Illustrated  by  Lucius  Hitchcock. 
Mrs.  Deland  won  so  many  friends  through  Old  Chester  Tales 
that  this  volume  needs  no  introduction  beyond  its  title.  The  lova- 
ble doctor  is  more  ripened  in  this  later  book,  and  the  simple  come- 
dies and  tragedies  of  the  old  village  are  told  with  dramatic  charm. 

OLD  CHESTER  TALES.  By  Margaret  Deland.  Illustrated 
by  Howard  Pyle. 

Stories  portraying  with  delightful  humor  and  pathos  a  quaint  peo- 
ple in  a  sleepy  old  town.  Dr.  Lavendar,  a  very  human  and  lovable 
"preacher,"  is  the  connecting  link  between  these  dramatic  stories 
from  life. 

HE  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH  HIS  WIFE.    By  E.  P.  Roe. 
With  frontispiece. 

The  hero  is  a  farmer — a  man  with  honest,  sincere  views  of  life. 
Beieft  of  his  wife,  his  home  is  cared  for  by  a  succession  of  domes- 
tics of  varying  degrees  of  inefiiciency  until,  from  a  most  unpromis- 
ing source,  comes  a  young  woman  who  not  only  becomes  his  wife 
but  commands  his  respect  and  eventually  wins  his  love.  A  bright 
and  delicate  romance,  revealing  on  both  sides  a  love  that  surmounts 
all  difficulties  and  survives  the  censure  of  friends  as  well  as  the  bit- 
terness of  enemies. 
THE  YOKE.    By  Elizabeth  Miller. 

Against  the  historical  background  of  the  days  when  the  children 
of  Israel  were  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  Egypt,  the  author  has 
sketched  a  romance  of  compelling  charm.  A  biblical  novel  as  great 
as  any  since  "  Ben  Hur." 

SAUL  OF  TARSUS.    By  Elizabeth  Miller.     Illustrated  by 
Andr^  Castaigne. 

The  scenes  of  this  story  are  laid  in  Jerusalem,  Alexandria,  Rome 
and  Damascus.  The  Apostle  Paul,  the  Martyr  Stephen,  Herod 
Agrippa  and  the  Emperors  Tiberius  and  Caligula  are  among  the 
mighty  figures  that  move  through  the  pages.  Wonderful  descrip- 
tions, and  a  love  story  of  the  purest  and  noblest  type  mark  this 
most  remarkable  religious  romance. 

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BRUVVER  JIM'S  BABY.  By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels.  ' 
An  uproariously  funny  story  of  a  tiny  mining  settlement  in  the 
West,  which  is  shaken  to  the  very  roots  by  the  sudden  possession 
of  a  baby,  found  on  the  plains  by  one  of  its  residents.  The  town  is 
^  disreputable  a  spot  as  the  gold  fever  was  ever  responsible  for,  ^ 
and  the  coming  of  that  baby  causes  the  upheaval  of  every  rooted 
tradition  of  the  place.  Its  christening,  the  problems  of  its  toys  and 
its  illness  supersede  in  the  minds  of  the  miners  all  thought  of  earthy 
treasure. 

THE  FURNACE  OF  GOLD.     By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels, 
author  of  "  Bruvver  Jim's  Baby."  Illustrations  by  J.  N. 
Marchand. 
An  accurate  and  Informing  portrayal  of  scenes,  types,  and  condi- 
tions of  the  mining  districts  in  modern  Nevada. 

The  book  is  an  out-door  story,  clean,  exciting,  exemplifying  no- 
bility and  courage  of  character,  and  bravery,  and  heroism  in  the  sort 
of  men  and  women  we  all  admire  and  wish  to  know. 

THE  MESSAGE.  By  Louis  Tracy.  Illustrations  by  Joseph 
C.  Chase. 

A  breezy  tale  of  how  a  bit  of  old  parchment,  concealed  in  a  figure- 
head from  a  sunken  vessel,  comes  into  the  possession  of  a  pretty 
girl  and  an  army  man  during  regatta  week  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
This  is  the  message  and  it  enfolds  a  mystery,  the  development  of 
which  the  reader  will  follow  with  breathless  interest. 
THE  SCARLET  EMPIRE.  By  David  M,  Parry.  Illus- 
trations by  Hermann  C.  Wall. 

A  young  socialist,  weary  of  life,  plunges  into  the  sea  and  awakes 
in  the  lost  island  of  Atlantis,  known  as  the  Scarlet  Empire,  where 
a  social  democracy  is  in  full  operation,  granting  every  man  a  living 
but  limiting  food,  conversation,  education  and  marriage. 

The  hero  passes  through  an  enthralling  love  affair  and  mber  ad- 
ventures but  finally  returns  to  his  own  New  York  world. 

THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  By  Charles  Klein  and  Arthur 
Hornblow.     Illustrations  by  Clarence  Rowe. 

A  novel  which  exposes  the  abuses  in  this  country  of  the  police 
system. 

The  son  of  an  aristocratic  New  York  family  marries  a  woman 
socially  beneath  him,  but  of  strong,  womanly  qualities  that;  la.ter 
on,  save  the  man  from  the  tragic  consequences  of  a  dissipated  life. 

The  wife  believes  in  his  innocence  and  her  wit  and  good  sense 
help  her  to  win  against  the  tremendous  odds  imposed  by  law. 

THE  THIRTEENTH  DISTRICT.  By  Brand  Whitlock. 
A  realistic  western  story  of  love  and  politics  and  a  searching  study 
of  their  influence  on  character.  The  author  shows  with  extraordi- 
nary vitality  of  treatment  the  tricks,  the  heat,  the  passion,  the  tv. 
mult  of  the  political  arena  the  triumph  and  strength  of  love, 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


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CY  WHITTAKER'S  PLACE.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 
Illustrated  by  Wallace  Morgan. 
A  Cape  Cod  story  describing  the  amusing  efforts  of  an  el- 
derly bachelor  and  his  two  cronies  to  rear  and  educate  a  little 
girl.     Full  of  honest  fun — a  rural  drama. 

THE  FORGE  IN  THE  FOREST.     By  Charles  G.  D. 
Roberts.     Illustrated  by  H.  Sandham. 

A  story  of  the  conflict  in  Acadia  after  its  conquest  by  the 
British.  A  dramatic  picture  that  lives  and  shines  with  the  in- 
definable charm  of  poetic  romance. 

A  SISTER  TO  EVANGELINE.      By   Charles  G.  D. 
Roberts.    Illustrated  by  E.  McConnell. 

Being  the  story  of  Yvonne  de  Lamourie,  and  how  she  went 
into  exile  with  the  villagers  of  Grand  Pr^.  Swift  action, 
fresh  atmosphere,  wholesome  purity,  deep  passion  and  search- 
ing analysis  characterize  this  strong  novel. 

THE  OPENED  SHUTTERS.  By  Clara  Louise  Bum- 
ham.  Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 
A  summer  haunt  on  an  island  in  Casco  Bay  is  the  back- 
ground for  this  romance.  A  beautiful  woman,  at  discord  with 
life,  is  brought  to  realize,  by  her  new  friends,  that  she  may 
open  the  shutters  of  her  soul  to  the  blessed  sunlight  of  joy  by 
casting  aside  vanity  and  self  love.  A  delicately  humorous 
work  with  a  lofty  motive  underlying  it  alL 

THE  RIGHT  PRINCESS.  By  Clara  Louise  Bumham. 
An  amusing  story,  opening  at  a  fashionable  Long  Island  re- 
sort, where  a  stately  Englishwoman  employs  a  forcible  New 
England  housekeeper  to  serve  in  her  interesting  home.  How 
t3rpes  so  widely  apart  react  on  each  others'  lives,  all  to  ulti- 
mate good,  makes  a  story  both  humorous  and  rich  in  sentiment. 

THE  LEAVEN  OF  LOVE.  By  Clara  Louise  Bum- 
ham.  Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 
At  a  Southern  California  resort  a  world-weary  woman,  young 
and  beautiful  but  disillusioned,  meets  a  girl  who  has  learned 
the  art  of  living — of  tasting  life  in  all  its  richness,  opulence  and 
joy.  The  story  hinges  upon  the  change  wrought  in  the  soul 
of  the  blas^  woman  by  this  glimpse  into  a  cheery  life. 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


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QUINCY  ADAMS  SAWYER.  A  Picture  of  New 
England  Home  Life.  With  illustrations  by  C.  W. 
Reed,  and  Scenes  Reproduced  from  the  Play.  * 

One  of  the  best  New  England  stories  'ever  writ*;en.  It  is 
full  of  homely  human  interest  *  *  *  there  is  a  wealth  of  New 
England  village  character,  scenes  and  incidents  *  *  *  forcibly, 
vividly  and  truthfully  drawn.  Few  books  have  enjoyed  a 
greater  sale  and  popularity.  Dramatized,  it  made  the  great- 
est rural  play  of  recent  times. 

THE    FURTHER    ADVENTURES    OF    QUINCY 
ADAMS   SAWYER.    By   Charles  Felton   Pidgin. 
Illustrated  by  Henry  Roth. 
All  who  love  honest  sentiment,  quaint  and  sunny  humor^ 
and  homespun  philosophy  will  fixid  these  "  Further  Adven- 
tures" a  book  after  their  own  heart. 

HALF  A  CHANCE.  By  Frederic  S.  Isham.  Illus- 
trated by  Herman  Pfeifer. 

The  thrill  of  excitement  will  keep  the  reader  in  a  state  ojt 
suspense,  and  he  will  become  personally  concerned  from  the 
start,  as  to  the  central  character,  a  very  real  man  who  suffers, 
dares — and  achieves ! 

VIRGINIA  OF  THE  AIR  LANES.  By  Herbert 
Quick.     Illustrated  by  William  R.  Leigh. 

The  author  has  seized  the  romantic  moment  for  the  airship 
novel,  and  created  the  pretty  story  of  "  a  lover  and  his  lass  ** 
contending  with  an  elderly  relative  for  the  monopoly  of  the 
skies.    An  exciting  tale  of  adventure  in  midair. 

THE  GAME  AND  THE  CANDLE.     By  Eleanor  M, 
Ingram.    Illustrated  by  P.  D.  Johnson. 
The  hero  is  a  young  American,  who,  to  save  his  family  fromv 
poverty,  deliberately  commits  a  felony.     Then  follow  his  cap- 
ture and  imprisonment,  and  his  rescue  by  a  Russian  Grand 
Duke.     A  stirring  story,  rich  in  sentiment. 

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WHEN  A  MAN  MARRIES.  By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 
Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher  and  Mayo  Bunker. 

A  young  artist,  whose  wife  had  recently  divorced  him,  finds  that 
a  visit  is  due  from  his  Aunt  Selina,  an  elderly  lady  having  ideas 
about  things  quite  apart  from  the  Bohemian  set  in  which  her 
nephew  is  a  shining  light.  The  way  in  which  matters  are  tempo- 
rarily adjusted  forms  the  motif  of  the  story, 

A  farcical  extravaganza,  dramatized  under  the  title  of  "Seven  Days" 

THE  FASHIONABLE  ADVENTURES  OF  JOSHUA 
CRAIG.  By  David  Graham  Phillips.  Illustrated. 
A  young  westerner,  uncouth  and  unconventional,  appears  in 
political  and  social  life  in  Washington.  He  attains  power  in  poli- 
tics, and  a  young  woman  of  the  exclusive  set  becomes  his  wife,  un- 
dertaking his  education  in  social  amenities. 

"DOC."  GORDON.  By  Mary  E.  Wilkins-Freeman.  Illus- 
trated by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 
Against  the  familiar  background  of  American  town  life,  the 
author  portrays  a  group  of  people  strangely  involved  in  a  mystery. 
"  Doc."  Gordon,  the  one  physician  of  the  place.  Dr.  Elliot,  his 
assistant,  a  beautiful  woman  and  her  altogether  charming  daughter 
are  all  involved  in  the  plot.     A  novel  of  great  interest. 

HOLY  ORDERS.    By  Marie  Corelli. 

A  dramatic  story,  in  which  is  pictured  a  clergyman  in  touch  with 
society  people,  stage  favorites,  simple  village  folk,  powerful  finan- 
ciers and  others,  each  presenting  vital  problems  to  this  man  "  in 
holy  orders" — problems  that  we  are  now  struggling  with  in  America. 

KATRINE.    By  Elinor  Macartney  Lane.   With  frontispiece. 

Katrine,  the  heroine  of  this  story,  is  a  lovely  Irish  girl,  of  lowly 
birth,  but  gifted  with  a  beautiful  voice. 

The  narrative  is  based  on  the  facts  of  an  actual  singer's  career, 
and  the  viewpoint  throughout  is  a  most  exalted  one. 

THE    FORTUNES    OF  FIFI.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawall. 
Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 
A  story  of  life  in  France  at  the  time  of  the  first  Napoleon.    Fifi, 
a  glad,  mad  little  actress  of  eighteen,  is  the  star  performer  in  a  third 
rate  Parisian  theatre.    A  story  as  dainty  as  a  Watteau  painting. 

SHE  THAT  HESITATES.  By  Harris  Dickson.  Illus- 
trated by  C.  W.  Relyea. 

The  scene  of  this  dashing  romance  shifts  from  Dresden  to  St. 
Petersburg  in  the  reign  of  Peter  the  Great,  and  then  to  New  Orleans. 

The  hero  is  a  French  Soldier  of  Fortune,  and  the  princess,  who 
hesitates — but  you  must  read  the  story  to  know  how  she  that  hesitates 
may  be  lost  and  yet  saved. 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET  &    DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

HAPPY  HAWKINS.  By  Robert  Alexander  Wason.  Illus- 
trated  by  Howard  Giles. 
A  ranch  and  cowboy  novel.  Happy  Hawkins  tells  his  own  story 
-with  such  a  fine  capacity  for  knowing  how  to  do  it  and  with  so  much 
humor  that  the  reader's  interest  is  held  in  surprise,  then  admiration 
and  at  last  in  positive  affection. 

COMRADES.    By  Thomas  Dixon,  Jr.    Illustrated  by  C.  D. " 
Williams. 

The  locale  of  this  story  is  in  California,  where  a  few  socialists 
establish  a  little  community. 

The  author  leads  the  little  band  along  the  path  of  disillusion- 
ment, and  gives  some  brilliant  flashes  of  light  on  one  side  of  an 
important  question. 
TONO-BUNGAY.    By  Herbert  George  Wells. 

The  hero  of  this  novel  is  a  young  man  who,  through  hard  work, 
earns  a  scholarship  and  goes  to  London. 

"Written  with  a  frankness  verging  on  Rousseau's,  Mr.  Wells  still 
nses  rare  discrimination  and  the  border  line  of  propriety  is  never 
crossed.    An  entertaining  book  with  both  a  story  and  a  moral,  and 
without  a  duJ!  page— Mr.  Wells's  most  notable  achievement. 
A  HUSBAND  BY  PROXY.    By  Jack  Steele. 

A  young  criminologist,  but  recently  arrived  in  New  York  city, 
is  drawn  into  a  mystery,  partly  through  financial  need  and  partly 
through  his  interest  in  a  beautiful  woman,  who  seems  at  times  the 
simplest  child  and  again  a  perfect  mistress  of  intrigue  A  bafiling 
detective  story. 

LIKE  ANOTHER  HELEN.    By  George  Horton.    Illus- 
trated by  C.  M.  Relyea. 

Mr.  Horton's  powerful  romance  stands  in  a  new  field  and  brings 
an  almost  unknown  world  in  reality  before  the  reader — the  world 
of  conflict  between  Greek  and  Turk  on  the  Island  of  Crete.  The 
"  Helen  "  of  the  story  is  a  Greek,  beautiful,  desolate,  defiant — pure 
as  snow. 

There  is  a  certain  new  force  about  the  stoiy,  a  kind  of  master^ 
craftsmanship  and  mental  dominance  that  holds  the  reader. 
THE     MASTER    OF    APPLEBY.     By    Francis    Lynde. 
Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 

"A  novel  tale  concerning  itself  in  part  with  the  great  struggle  in 
the  two  Carolinas,  but  chiefly  with  the  adventures  therein  of  two 
gentlemen  who  loved  one  and  the  same  lady. 

A  strong,  masculine  and  persuasive  story. 
A  MODERN  MADONNA.     By  Caroline  Abbot  Stanley. 

A  story  of  American  life,  founded  on  facts  as  they  existed  some 
years  ago  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  The  theme  is  the  maternai 
love  and  splendid  courage  of  a  woman. 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


KATE  DOUGLAS  WIGGIN'S 
STORIES   OF  PURE   DELIGHT 

Full    of    originality   and    humor,    kindliness    and   cheer 

THE  OLD  PEABODY  PEW.    Large  Octavo.    Decorative 

text  pages,  printed  in  two  colors.     Illustrations  by  Alice 

Barber  Stephens. 

One  of  the  prettiest  romances  that  has  ever  come  from  this 
author's  pen  is  made  to  bloom  on  Christmas  Eve  in  the  sweet 
freshness  of  an  old  New  England  meeting  house. 

PENELOPE'S  PROGRESS.    Attractive  cover  design  in 

colors. 

Scotland  is  the  background  for  the  merry  doings  of  three  very 
clever  and  original  American  girls.  Their  adventures  in  adjusting 
themselves  to  the  Scot  and  his  land  are  full  of  humor. 

PENELOPE'S  IRISH  EXPERIENCES.  Uniform  in  style 
with  "Penelope's  Progress." 

The  trio  of  clever  girls  who  rambled  over  Scotland  cross  the  bor- 
der to  the  Emerald  Isle,  and  again  they  sharpen  their  wits  against 
new  conditions,  and  revel  in  the  land  of  laughter  and  wit. 

REBECCA  OF  SUNNYBROOK  FARM. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  studies  of  childhood — Rebecca's  artis- 
tic, unusual  and  quaintly  charming  qualities  stand  cut  midst  a  circle 
of  austere  New  Englanders.  The  stage  version  is  making  a  phe- 
nomenal dramatic  record. 

NEW  CHRONICLES  OF  REBECCA.  With  illustrations 

by  F.  C.  Yohn. 

Some  more  quaintly  amusing  chronicles  that  carry  Rebecca 
through  various  stages  to  her  eighteenth  birthday. 

ROSE   O'  THE  RIVER.     With  illustrations  by  George 

Wright. 

The  simple  story  of  Rose,  a  country  girl  and  Stephen  a  sturdy 
young  farmer,  The  girl's  fancy  for  a  city  man  interrupts  their  love 
and  merges  the  story  into  an  emotional  strain  where  the  reader  fol- 
lows the  events  with  rapt  attention. 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


TITLES    SELECTED   FROM 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP'S    LIST 

REALISTIC.  ENGAGING  PICTURES  OF  LIFK 

THE  GARDEN  OF  FATE.  By  Roy  Norton.  Illustrated 

by  Joseph  Clement  Coll. 

The  colorful  romance  of  an  American  girl  in  Morocco,  and 

of  a  beautiful  garden,  whose  beauty  and  traditions  of  strange 

subtle  happenings  were  closed  to  the  world  by  a  Sultan's  seal. 

THE  MAN  HIGHER  UP.  By  Henry  Russell  Miller. 
Full  page  vignette  illustrations  by  M.  Leone  Bracker. 
The  story  of  a  tenement  waif  who  rose  by  his  own  ingenuity 
to  the  office  of  mayor  of  his  native  city.  His  experiences 
while  "climbing,"  make  a  most  interesting  example  of  the 
possibilities  of  human  nature  to  rise  above  circumstances. 

THE  KEY  TO  YESTERDAY.      By  Charles  Neville 
Buck.     Illustrated  by  R.  Schabelitz. 

Robert  Saxon,  a  prominent  artist,  has  an  accident,  while  in 
Paris,  which  obliterates  his  memory,  and  the  only  clue  he  has 
to  his  former  life  is  a  rusty  key.  What  door  in  Paris  will  it 
unlock?    He  must  know  that  before  he  woos  the  girl  he  loves. 

THE  DANGER  TRAIL.  By  James  Oliver  Curwood. 
Illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 
The  danger  trail  is  over  the  snow-smothered  North.  A 
young  Chicago  engineer,  who  is  building  a  road  through  the 
Hudson  Bay  region,  is  involved  in  mystery,  and  is  led  into 
ambush  by  a  young  woman. 

THE  GAY  LORD  WARING.     By  Houghton  Townley. 

Illustrated  by  Will  Grefe. 
A  story  of  the  smart  hunting  set  in  England.    A  gay  young 
lord  wins  in  love  against  his  selfish  and  cowardly  brother  and 
apparently  against  fate  itself. 

BY  INHERITANCE.  By  Octave  Thanet.  Illustrated 
by  Thomas  Fogarty.  Elaborate  wrapper  in  colors. 
A  wealthy  New  England  spinster  with  the  most  elaborate 
plans  for  the  education  of  the  negro  goes  to  visit  her  nephew 
in  Arkansas,  where  she  learns  the  needs  of  the  colored  race 
first  hand  and  begins  to  lose  her  theories. 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


GROSSET  &    DUNLAP'S 

DRAMATIZED  NOVELS 

Original,  sincere  and  courageous — often  amusing — the 
kind  that  are  making  theatrical  history. 

MADAME  X.     By  Alexandre  Bisson  and  J.  W.  McCon- 
aughy.      Illustrated    with    scenes    from    the    play. 

A  beautiful  Parisienne  became  an  outcast  because  her  hus- 
band would  not  forgive  an  error  of  her  youth.  Her  love  for 
her  son  is  the  great  final  influence  in  her  career.  A  tremen- 
dous dramatic  success. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  ALLAH.    By  Robert  Hichens. 

An  unconventional  English  woman  and  an  inscrutable 
stranger  meet  and  love  in  an  oasis  of  the  Sahara.  Staged 
this  season  with  magnificent  cast  and  gorgeous  properties. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  INDIA.     By  Lew.  Wallace. 

A  glowing  romance  of  the  Byzantine  Empire,  presenting 
vpith  extraordinary  power  the  siege  of  Constantinople,  and 
lighting  its  tragedy  with  the  warm  underglow  of  an  Oriental 
romance.    As  a  play  it  is  a  great  dramatic  spectacle. 

TESS  OF    THE    STORM    COUNTRY.      By  Grace 

Miller  White.     Illust.  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 
A  girl  from  the  dregs  of  society,  loves  a  young  Cornell  Uni- 
versity student,  and  it  works  startling  changes  in  her  life  and 
the  lives  of  those  about  her.    The  dramatic  version  is  one  of 
the  sensations  of  the  season. 

YOUNG  WALLINGFORD.  By  George  Randolph 
Chester.  Illust.  by  F.  R.  Gruger  and  Henry  Raleigh. 
A  series  of  clever  swindles  conducted  by  a  cheerful  young 
man,  each  of  which  is  just  on  the  safe  side  of  a  State's  prison 
offence.  As  "  Get-Rich-Quick  Wallingford,"  it  is  probably 
the  most  amusing  expose  of  money  manipulation  ever  seen 
on  the  stage. 

THE  INTRUSION  OF  JIMMY.  By  P.  G.  Wode- 
house.  Illustrations  by  Will  Grefe. 
Social  and  club  life  in  London  and  New  York,  an  amateur 
burglary  adventure  and  a  love  story.  Dramatized  under  the 
title  of  "A  Gentleman  of  Leisure,"  it  furnishes  hours  of 
laughter  to  the  play-goers. 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


THE  NOVELS  OF 

IRVING  BACHELLER 

Full  of  the  real  atmosphere  of  American  home  life. 

THE  HAND-MADE  GENTLEMAN.  With  a  double- 
page  frontispiece. 
The  son  of  a  wash-woman  begins  re-making  himself 
socially  and  imparts  his  system  to  his  numerous  friends.  A 
story  of  rural  New  York  with  an  appreciation  of  American 
types  only  possible  from  the  pen  of  a  humor  loving  American. 

DARREL  OF  THE  BLESSED  ISLES.  With  \^llustra- 
tions  by  Arthur  I.  Keller. 
A  tale  of  the  North  Country.  In  Darrel,  the  clock  tinker, 
wit,  philosopher  and  man  of  mystery,  is  portrayed  a  force  held 
in  fetters  and  covered  with  obscurity,  yet  strong  to  make  its 
way,  and  widely  felt. 

D'RI  AND  I:    A  Tale  of  Daring  Deeds  in  the  Second  War 
with  the  British.     Illustrated  by  F.  C.  Yohn. 
"  D'ri "  was  a  mighty  hunter,  quaint,  rugged,  wise,  truth- 
ful.    He  fights  magnificently  on  the  Lawrence,  and  is  a  strik- 
ing figure  in  this  enthusiastic  romance  of  early  America. 

EBEN  HOLDEN:    A  Tale  of  the  North  Country. 

A  story  of  the  hardy  wood-choppers  of  Vermont,  who 
founded  their  homes  in  the  Adirondack  wilderness.  "  Eben," 
the  hero,  is  a  bachelor  with  an  imagination  that  is  a  very 
wilderness  of  oddities. 

SILAS  STRONG:  Emperor  of  the  Woods. 

A  simple  account  of  one  summer  life,  as  it  was  lived  in  a 
part  of  the  Adirondacks.  Silas  Strong  is  a  woodland  philos- 
opher, and  his  camp  is  the  scene  of  an  impressive  little  love 
story. 

VERGILIUS:    A  Tale  of  the  Coming  of  Christ. 

A  thrilling  and  beautiful  story  of  two  young  Roman 
Patricians  whose  great  and  perilous  love  in  the  reign  of 
Augustus  leads  them  through  the  momentous,  exciting  events 
that  marked  the  year  just  preceding  the  birth  of  Christ. 

Grosset  &  DuNLAP,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


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